DASHES 


OF 


AMERICAN   HUMOR 


BY 

HOWARD    PAUL. 


All  astral  eft   fig   Jci'ti   HeecJ) 


NEW-YORK: 

GARRETT  &  CO.,  18  ANN-STREET. 

1853. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1853, 

By  GARRETT  &  CO., 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  I  he 
Southern  District  of  New-York. 


Holm  an,  Gray  &  Cp.,  Printers, 
New-York. 


TO 

JOSHUA   SILSBEE,   ESQ., 

(COMEDIAN,) 

WITH    WHOM   I    HAVE    PASSED    MANY    PLEASANT    HOURS 
IN    EUROPE    AND    AMERICA, 

£Ms  Volume  fs   (nscvf beto, 

BY    HIS    FRIEND, 

THE   AUTHOR. 


AN  APOLOGY  FOR  A  PREFACE. 


"  Prologues  precede  the  play  in  mournful  vertie, 
As  undertakers  walk  before  the  hearse," 

said  Garrick,  in  an  effusion  delivered  before  the  performance  of 
"  The  Apprentice;"  and  Prefaces  seem  to  be  a  dismal,  wretched  inven- 
tion, intended  to  garnish  the  outskirts  of  books,  but  which  truly  are  of 
little  service,  as  they  are  rarely  read,  except  by  a  class  of  weak,  excel- 
lent people,  who  conceive  it  to  be  their  duty  towards  an  author  to  read 
every  word  written,  from  the  title-page  to  the  farewell  sentence  that  dis- 
misses the  work. 

Bien,  but  my  American  publishers,  availing  themselves  of  the  fact  that 
I  am  in  Yankee-doodle-dom,  send  me  a  bland,  business-like  note,  asking 
me  to  write  a  preface — a  new  preface — as  they  do  not  care  to  be  content 
with  the  one  that  Mr.  Buckstone,  the  eminent  dramatist,  was  good 
enough  to  write  for  the  London  edition.  Now,  if  I  were  to  write  just 
such  remarks  as  my'candor  and  disapprobation  would  suggest,  the  afore- 
said "  weak,  excellent  people"  would  pronounce  me  ill-natured,  uncon- 
ventional, if  not  positively  rude. 

The  fact  is,  I  simply  look  on  a  preface  to  a  fugitive  book  as — a  bore.  If 
an  author  has  a  large  amount  of  vanity  in  his  composition,  and  wishes  to 
get  rid  of  it,  I  should  say  the  preface  would  be  the  proper  place  to  intro- 
duce it,  as  it  would  there  come  least  under  the  notice  of  his  patrons. 

There  is  a  story  told  of  a  certain  man  grown  conscientious,  who  had 


VI  AN  APOLOGY  FOE  A  FREFACE. 

committed  a  robbery — a  literary  one— and  he  entertained  secret  convic- 
tions that  he  ought  to  confess  the  appropriation  to  the  virtuous  public. 
He  wrote  another  volume,  and  then  cast  about  him  as  to  which  would  be 
the  safest  part  of  it  to  deposit  the  confession.  Unfortunately,  he  choso 
the  preface ;  and  he  afterwards  complained  that  only  two  people  had 
discovered  in  ten  years  the  story  of  his  own  guilt.  Who  after  this  will 
Bay  that  prefaces  are  read — I  will  go  a  step  beyond — worth  writing  ' 

If  one  were  disposed,  an  aquatic  simile  might  be  drawn  in  defence  of 
the  objection.  We  determine  upon  bathing,  and  provide  ourselves  with 
the  agreeable  concomitants  thereof.  We  start  towards  the  water  ;  and  the 
proper  way  is,  not  to  put  one  toe  in  the  element,  then  a  hand,  and  so 
on  by  timid  instalments — by  no  means  ;  jump  in  and  get  out  of  your 
pains  !  So  with  a,  book  ;  why  saunter  doubtingly  on  the  margin  of  your 
theme?  Settle  on  a  motive,  select  your  subject,  and  jump  in !  It  is  by 
far  the  better  plan,  and  the  public  will  like  you  just  as  well. 

But,  in  deprecating  the  custom,  I  have  written  just  sufficient  matter 
to  answer  my  publishers'  purpose.  The  offence  must  rest  on  their  shoul- 
ders, not  on  mine. 

In  conclusion,  I  cannot  refrain  from  thanking  the  London  press  for  the 
kind,  amiable  notices  they  honored  the  English  edition  with  ;  and  Mr. 
John  Leech,  the  distinguished  artist,  whose  contributions  to  "  Punch" 
have  been  enjoyed  all  over  the  world,  did  more  for  the  volume,  I  fear, 
than  the  public's  most  obedient  servant, 

THE  AUTHOR. 

New-York,  October.  1853. 


CONTENTS 


I  PAGE 

13  a  "  napoleon"  worth  a  sou  1 1 

old  dan  of  connecticut  river, 15 

jonathan  homebred, 35 

Jonathan's  adventure  at  regent's  park,        .        .        .     .     44 
Jonathan's  donkey  ride  on  hampstead  heath,      .  .    49 

snow  scenes,  , 60 

looking  up  lodgings, 68 

never  sleep  with  your  pantaloons  under  your  pillow,  .    79 

paragraphs  about  peaches, 93 

"picturesque  drinkables," 107 

what  came  of  a  ruffled  shirt, 115 

christmas  pantomimes, 142 

the  unfortunate  want  of  priority, 152 

that  mysterious  bandbox, 159 

holiday  times, 168 

steamboat  excursions  by  moonlight, 177 

jonathan  at  the  opera, 183 

jedediah  doughkins,  ........  188 

fourth  of  july  in  the  united  states,        ....  199 

scraps  of  nautical  nonsense,  213 

the  american  firemen, 228 


vm 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

JONATHAN   BEHIND   THE   SCENES, 237 

YANKEE    INQUISITIVENESS, 251 

A   YANKEE   IN   THE   GOLD   REGION, 254 

A  STORY   WITH   MORE   OR   LESS   SPICE   IN   IT,       .  .  .  .   264 

AN   OHIO   WEDDING, 270 

EGOTISM'S    LAST   SHIFT, 279 

AMERICAN  WATERING  PLACES. 285 

COLONEL   CRICKLEY'S   HORSE, 302 


DASHES 

OF 

AMERICAN    HUMOR. 


IS  A  "NAPOLEON  WORTH  A  SOU? 

"We  have  a  horror  of  loneliness ;  or,  to  speak  less  strongly,  we 
prefer  society  to  solitude,  unless  it  be  when  the  "  moon-tints  of 
purple  and  pearl"  are  very  beautiful  indeed  ;  and  then,  on  second 
thoughts,  it  would  be  more  agreeable  to  share  the  witchery  of 
the  view  in  the  companionship  of  some  "  loved  one,"  whose 
spirit-pulses  beat  in  unison  with  your  own.  Solitude  does  very 
well  for  philosophers  and  musty-crusty  old  cynics  of  the  Dio- 
genes kindred  ;  but  there  is  a  charm  and  sympathy  about  good 
society  which  captivates  our  taste,  though  "  Socialist-Politico" 
we  are  none.  Give  us  the  merry,  free-hearted,  unrestrained 
spirit  of  domestic  interchange  any  time,  to  the  ashen,  sober,  bu- 
ried-alive  conventionalism  of  hermited  exclusiveness.  Some 
queer  fellow — possibly  Beranger's  "  Gentleman  in  Brown" — 
has  argued  that  those  who  do  not  love  to  be  alone,  in  order  to 
look  into  their  hearts,  have  no  hearts  to  look  into ;  but  this  is 
the  sophistry  of  sentiment,  as  some  of  the  sincerest,  kindest, 
most  agreeable  people  we  have  ever  met,  were  those  who  inclin- 
ed towards  the  conviviality  of  congenial  society.  Your  very 
retired,  closeted  people,  who  inclose  themselves  from  year  to  year, 
grow  politic,  and,  as  such,  are  to  be  feared.     That  lean-visaged, 


2  ,'    •."     DASIiSS  -Or'  'AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

colouring:  ^liiv^irg.mciD  youuei:,  ba:s  not  half  the  sunshine  oi 
soul  as  his  neighbour  of  the  ruddy  cheek  and  genial  smile,  and 
yet  their  intellects  are  equal.  One,  with  selfish  heart,  moulders 
in  the  four  walls  of  his  cheerless  home  ;  while  the  other  expands 
his  mind  by  free  intercourse  with  his  fellow-man,  and,  by  so  ^oing, 
benefits  not  only  himself,  but  others,  by  the  value  of  his  own 
communicated  experience.  Next  to  this  selfishness  of  solitude, 
we  pity  a  large  class  of  people  that  seem  to  be  yearly  increasing; 
we  mean  those  externally  politic  persons  who  do  not  make  a 
solitary  move  in  the  great  game  of  life,  unless  it  redounds,  di- 
rectly or  indirectly,  to  their  own  personal  advancement.  We  do 
not  mean  to  urge  that  all  of  what  the  world  calls  policy  should 
be  discarded  and  thrown  aside.  By  no  means.  A  certain  quan- 
tity enters  into  the  elements  of  prudence ;  but  the  more  we  see 
of  the  human  family  the  more  numerous  we  find  these  strangers 
to  disinterested  goodness,  who  fawn  and  cringe  to  power,  and 
neglect,  ay,  insult  merit,  that  has  not,  by  the  force  of  time  and 
experience,  yet  been  able  to  mount  its  proper  pedestal. 

But  merely  mentioning  the  met  that  we  are  no  friend  of  soli- 
tude, has  led  us  into  a  train  of  thought,  which,  when  our  fingers 
clasped  the  quill,  we  had  no  idea  of  expressing.  "We  are  about 
to  relate  an  anecdote  that  fell  under  our  notice  in  Paris,  or  ra- 
ther, we  should  say,  an  adventure,  as  we  were  a  party  interested. 
On  our  first  visit  to  the  gay  capital  of  the  French  we  were 
quite  companionless,  and  the  prospect  of  strolling  over  the  cu- 
rious city  solus,  with  no  friend  to  share  the  wild  but'languidly- 
pleasing  impressions  of  the  strange  sights  that  we  everywhere 
encountered,  was  anything  but  cheering.  "We  strolled  up  and 
down  the  Boulevards,  admired  the  shop-windows,  looked  after 
the  flower-girls,  listened  to  the  harpists,  wondered  at  the  num- 
bers of  gend'armes,  gazed  at  the  nuns,  and  visited  the  hundreds 
of  objects  of  interest;  but  yet  we  experienced  the  oppressive- 
ness of  estrangement  from  all  friends  or  companions.  When 
we  wandered  through  the  elaborate  halls  of  the  Louvre,  for  ex- 
%mple,  we  wanted  to  say  a  thousand  things  about  the  gorgeous 


IS  a  "napoleon"  worth  a  sou?  3 

works  of  art  that  silently,  but  magnificently,  shone  resplendent 
in  artistic  beauty  from  every  wall.  We  went  to  Pere  la  Chaise, 
and  saw  the  tombs  of  Abelard  and  Heloise,  Bellini,  David, 
Marshal  Ney,  Talma,  and  a  host  of  others  of  undying  fame  and 
greatness.  The  serenity  and  mournful  character  of  this  spot 
were  favourable  to  the  quiet  thoughtfulness  of  solitude ;  and 
when  we  saw  piles  of  massive  marble  reflecting  back  the  light, 
over  the  graves  of  men  whose  only  claim  to  notice  was  wealth, 
while  there  was  scarce  a  stone  to  mark  the  remains  of  the  brave 
and  gallant  Ney,  an  impulse  stole  over  us  that  led  us  to  exclaim, 
with  Byron, 

" obscurity  and  fame 

The  glory  and  the  nothing  of  a  name." 

As  it  is  our  custom,  when  we  travel,  to  carry  a  note-book,  we 
found  a  species  of  melancholy  pleasure  in  transcribing  the 
inscriptions  from  various  monuments,  of  men  who  had  distin- 
guished themselves  for  learning,  chivalry,  or  high  attainment  in 
art ;  and  while  copying  a  curious  couplet  from  a  quaint,  defaced, 
old-fashioned  stone,  in  a  far-off  corner  of  the  cemetery,  our  sur- 
prise was  considerably  awakened  by  receiving  a  familiar,  and 
almost  recognizable  touch  on  the  shoulder  from  some  one  behind. 
We  were  bending  on  one  knee,  in  order  to  decipher  the  singular 
lines,  and  could  not  see  who  had  thus  suddenly  come  upon  us, 
but,  raising  on  foot,  discovered,  much  to  our  delight,  an  old  (or 
rather  a  young)  friend  and  countryman,  a  brave,  merry-hearted, 
excellent  youngster,  who,  like  ourself,  we  discovered  had  come 
to  Paris  in  quest  of  amusement,  and  to  take  back  all  the  inform- 
ation that  he  could  consistently  cram  into  his  noddle.  Our 
accidental  meeting  was  as  warm  as  it  was  casual ;  and  as  he  also 
had  arrived  in  the  city  quite  alone,  the  renewed  companionship 
promised  well,  and  acceptable  on  either  side.  We  quitted  the 
"  city  of  the  dead,"  and  taking  an  omnibus  soon  found  ourselves 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  Palais  lloyal,  at  a  restaurant,  in 
which  we  dined  well  and  deliberately,  enjoying  staccato, 
an    exhilarating    chat    about    our    impressions,     and     other 


4  DASHES    OF   AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

et  cceteras,  which  strange  objects  in  a  strange  country  are  apt  to 
suggest. 

Our  lodgment  was  in  a  neat,  retired  little  dwelling-house,  on 
the  Rue  Richelieu,  just  off  the  Boulevard  Italiens,  and  in  the 
immediate  proximity  to  the  celebrated  Hotel  do  Paris,  a  prom- 
inent locality  for  young  Americans.  After  the  arrival  of  our 
friend  it  was  almost  our  daily  habit  to  drop  in  at  the  court- 
yard of  this  hotel  to  see  if  any  friends  had  left  the  smoke  of 
London  for  the  more  balmy  sunshine  of  Paris;  and  then  the 
femme  de  charge,  who  was  a  little  Swiss  specimen  of  feminine 
plumptitude,  had  such  a  bewitching  dimple  in  her  chin,  and 
talked  English  with  such  an  unconsciously  fascinating  accent, 
that  the  Hotel  de  Paris  seemed  to  possess  an  interest  wholly 
uncommon.  A  week  had  not  elapsed,  when  one  day,  as  wo 
were  lounging  in  the  vestibule,  where  Lolette  had  been  show- 
ing us  a  roll  of  dainty  taffetas  and  a  box  of  cheap  bijoux  (which 
an  ardent  admirer  had  sent  her,  accompanied  by  an  intensely 
sentimental  billet,  the  day  before),  a  stylish  coupe  drove  into 
the  court-yard,  from  which  descended  three  young  gentlemen, 
all  dressed  scrupulously  in  white,  with  Ascot  caps,  and  blue 
ribbons  in  their  vests.  We  knew  them  at  once.  They  were 
medical  students  from  Virginia,  living  in  Paris,  but  who  wero 
temporarily  residing,  during  the  warm  weather,  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  Chantilly,  at  a  chaumiere,  in  the  very  midst  of  pinks 
and  corn-roses.  They  had  adopted  the  uniform  costume  of 
white  from  an  eccentric  whim  of  their  own  creation ;  and  the 
blue  ribbons  were  emblematic  of  a  triangular  friendship  they 
had  formed,  into  the  composition  of  which  entered  sundry  re- 
mote medical  bearings  and  masonic  allusions  which  we  were  not 
given  clearly  to  understand.  This  we  subsequently  learned,  of 
course  ;  and  having  gone  poking  and  sauntering  about  the  gay 
city  unattended — save  when  we  had  a  guide — it  was  indeed 
refreshing  to  meet  with  such  a  picked  squad  of  jolly  acquaint- 
ances, If  the  whole  continent  of  America  had  been  scoured  from 


IS   A    "NAPOLEON''    WORTH    A    SOU  {  5 

an  edge  of  Lake  Ponchertrain — taking  that  odd  locality  as  a 
point,  and  going  any  way — north,  south,  east,  or  west — we 
doubt  if  a  trio  of  more  dashing,  urbane  young  men  could  have 
been  brought  together.  Although  pursuing  their  professional 
studies  in  Paris,  they  had,  at  this  particular  period,  thrown 
physic  to  the  "  bow-wows,"  as  Mantilini  says,  and  were  now 
enjoying  a  pleasant  relaxation  of  ease  in  the  most  approved  man- 
ner. Dividing  the  time  between  their  cottage  and  the  cafes  in 
town,  dining  here  and  supping  there,  just  as  the  circumstances 
of  the  case  suggested  hour  and  locality,  the  time  passed  rapidly 
and  with  feathered  feet.  The  young  men  of  Virginia  always 
conciliated  our  partiality  ;  for,  besides  being  well-bred  and  full 
of  spirit,  their  unaffectedness  of  manner,  and  frank,  manly  sym- 
pathy, scarcely  fail  to  win  for  them  respect  and  attachment. 
Keenly  alive  to  insult,  they  are  equally  affected  by  hospitality, 
and  though  some  of  the  scions  of  the  "  Old  Dominion"  have  got 
the  reputation  of  being  too  "  hot-blooded,"  yet,  in  the  long  run, 
their  kindness  of  heart  and  uniform  courtesy  neutralize  all  that 
can  be  argued  in  respect  to  warmth  of  temperament. 

No  longer  had  we  occasion  to  complain  of  solitude  ;  for  what 
between  the  last  arrival,  and  our  friend  who  had  so  unexpected- 
ly and  romantically  found  us  among  the  sepulchres,  we  were 
now  enjoying  a  wealth  of  companionship.  Our  natal  homes  be- 
ing the  same,  there  was  a  current  of  fraternal  sympathy  perva- 
ding our  sentiments,  to  which  our  hearts  mutually  bowed.  That 
we  were  correspondingly  fond  of  adventure  and  amusement 
there  could  exist  no  doubt  after  an  hour's  communication,  and 
in  a  body  we  strolled  through  the  city,  actuated  by  the  same 
desires  and  pursuing  similar  ends.  That  night,  at  parting,  it  was 
agreed  that  our  friend  and  self  should  take  an  early  ride  the 
next  morning,  and  breakfast  at  Chantilly.  Accordingly  we 
were  up  with  the  singing  birds,  and  having  ordered  a  brace  of 
fine  steeds  the  night  before,  while  the  dew  was  yet  gleaming  in 
the  early  sunshine,  we  set  out  at  a  pleasant  pace,  and  reached 
the  cottage  just  as  coffee  was  about  to  come  upon  the  table.  Our 


6  DASHES   OP   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

friends  were  lounging  about  the  room  in  Cashmere  robes  and 
embroidered  slippers.  An  easel,  on  which  the  outline  of  a 
landscape  was  mounted,  an  old  violin,  and  a  cribbage  board, 
indicated  the  manner  in  which  our  southern  friends  passed  their 
leisure  ;  and  these  et  ccetcras,  with  a  moderate  appointment  of 
ornamental  tables,  buffet,  chimney-glass,  with  a  vase  or  two,  and 
several  choice  French  prints  of  saucy  arch-look ing  dames,  in 
low-necked  dresses,  constituted  the  furniture  of  the  apartment. 
Our  morning  ride  had  provoked  an  excellent  appetite,  and  gave 
us  a  keen  relish  for  a  charmingly  prepared  fricascc)  and  afresh- 
laid  egg.  The  cafe,  too,  was  unexceptionable  ;  and  the  rolls, 
long  as  one's  arm,  warm  from  the  oven,  now  well  buttered, 
were  indeed  morsels  for  Apicius. 

At  breakfast,  the  conversation  turned  on  the  credulity  and 
incredulity  of  various  nations.  One  of  the  southern  boys  in- 
sisted that  an  Englishman  would  believe  white  was  black,  if  it 
was  only  proved  to  his  satisfaction  (a  tolerably  safe  argument), 
and  then  gave  the  Americans  credit  for  a  trait  of  short-sighted- 
ness and  credulity  that  quite  startled  us  all. 

"  How  about  the  French  ?"  we  asked. 

"  Not  half  as  bad,"  pursued  our  friend — we  will  call  liim 
George,  for  the  sake  of  a  name.  "  A  Frenchman,  with  his  char- 
acteristic flightiness,  if  he  ever  stops  to  consider,  does  so  when 
something  marvellous  is  about  to  be  thrust  down  his  throat, 
His  perception  here  is  wonderfully  acute.  Somebody  once,  in 
Yankee  Land,  fixed  the  tail  of  a  fish  to  the  head  of  a  monkey, 
and  christened  it  a  mermaid.  Don't  you  remember  it  ?  The 
bait  took,  and  people  were  gulled  by  thousands.  If  the  expe- 
riment had  been  tried  in  France  it  would  have  met  with  a  very 
different  reception.  One  gend'arme  would  have  seized  Mr. 
Monkey's  head,  and  another  the  tail,  and  then  of  course  the 
pleasant  delusion  would  have  dropped  to  pieces.  I'll  warrant 
the  moon-hoax  didn't  affect  France,  although  it  set  we  Yankees 
and  the  English  in  a  most  celestial  twitter.  No,  no  ;  in  my 
humble    opinion,,  the   French    are    too    ingenious   themselves 


IS   A    "NArOLEON"    WORTH    A    SOU?  7 

to  be  easily  deceived,  except  in — yes,  I  think  I  will  except 
politics." 

Our  first-found  friend — we  will  call  him  Tom — assumed  the 
antipodes  of  this  expression,  by  taking  opposite  ground.  He  was 
willing  to  grant  that  the  Americans  gloried  in  their  Barnum, 
and  thus  winked  at  humbug.  He  admitted  that  England  went 
into  extacies  about  a  foreign  pair  of  legs  at  the  G-rand  Ballet, 
when  a  native  pair,  just  as  well  developed  and  twinkling,  were 
suffered  to  go  uncovered — with  commendation,  and  unacknowl- 
edged in  point  of  merit.  He  conceded  that  a  plaster-of-Paris 
maker  of  images,  provided  that  he  had  a  heavy  moustache,  went 
further  among  the  Saxons  than  a  sculptor  in  marble,  unadorn- 
ed with  a  hirsute  physiognomy. 

"  But  I'll  tell  you,"  said  he,  drawing  a  napkin  slowly  over  his 
lips,  "  these  are  national  prejudices,  based  on  false  education. 
It  was  only  the  other  day  that  I  read  in  a  French  paper  of  a 
certain  antediluvian  animal  that  has  been  exhibited  at  an  ana- 
tomical museum  somewhere  in  Paris,  with  which  the  savans  and 
long-heads  were  in  raptures.  Confusion  to  their  dreams  of  lore, 
however ;  for  it  has  recently  leaked  out  that  the  startling  crea- 
ture was  nothing  more  nor  less  than  a  framework  of  the  bones 
of  various  defunct  animals,  ingeniously  knitted  into  grotesque 
shape." 

"  Hang  it!"  exclaimed  George,  opening  his  eyes  very  wide, 
and  sipping  his  coffee,  "  I  was  sold  myself  by  that  beast.  In 
fact  I  had  made  up  my  mind  to  write  a  learned  treatise,  to  prove 
that  it  had  lived  on  the  mountains  before  Noah's  ark  was 
launched.  Well !  that  is  French  swindle  No.  1 ,  most  emphati- 
cally." 

"  That's  not  all,  by  great  lengths,"  continued  Tom,  dryly. 
"  Tell  me  where  quackery  reigns  so  potently  as  here ;  every 
other  man  or  woman  has  an  amulet  to  drive  away  pestilence  ,* 
every  wall  is  covered  with  stencilled  falsehoods,  to  deceive  the 
ignorant  and  unwary.  Galen  and  Hippocrates  would  blush  to 
read  the  promises  of  these — " 


8  DASHES   OF    AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

"  Pardon  my  interruption,"  said  George,  "  but  did  either 
Galen  or  Hippocrates  understand  French?  Remember  the 
Norman  does'nt  date  so  far  back." 

"  Whether  they  could  or  not  is  a  matter  of  little  consequence 
now,"  pursued  Tom,  in  the  best  possible  good  humor.  "  But 
the  thriving  state  of  quackery  in  France  speakes  volumes  for 
the  morbid  weakmindedness  of  the  great  masses.  Why,  I 
believe  if  a  fellow  would  cry  '  Here's  Napoleons  for  a  sou  each !' 
and  let  the  Napoleons  be  rank  brass  worth  two  centimes,  in  the 
streets  of  Paris,  he  could  make  his  fortune  in  a  year,  provided 
the  police  did  not  debar  the  traffic." 

"  And  seriously,  you  think  the  French  are  such  dolts  ?" 
inquired  George,  with  a  doubting  expression. 

"  I  do,  indeed,"  replied  Tom. 

"  I  think  you're  wrong  !" 

"  I've  no  doubt  you  do,  and  I  think  I'm  right." 

"  Well,  we  can  put  this  argument  to  the  test;  and  if  you  like 
I  will  lay  you  a  wager." 

"What  is  it?" 

"  Why,  I'll  bet  sixty  francs  to  a  like  sum  that  I'll  stand  on 
the  Pont  de  la  Concord  after  noontide,  and  cry  '  Here's  real 
Napoleons  going  for  a  sou  P  and  that  within  an  hour  I  don't 
sell  three ;  and  what  is  more,  in  order  to  carry  out  the  thing 
fairly,  the  Napoleons  shall  be  real — the  pure  stuff." 

"  Done ;  I'll  take  it  I"  exclaimed  Tom.  "  But  I  say,  this  is 
rather  a  novel  way  of  rendering  a  huge  per  centage  on  small  pur- 
chases.    You'll  sell  three  in  five  minutes,  depend  on't." 

"  I'll  risk  it.  Up  goes  my  sixty  francs,  cover  it,  and  remem- 
ber thus  run  the  conditions  of  the  wager  :  If  I  sell  within  one 
hour  three  Napoleons  for  one  sou  each,  you  win ;  if  not,  I  da 
Is  that  plain  ?" 

«  Perfectly  ;  and  the  locality  shall  be  —  ?"  asked  Tom. 

"  I  think  the  Pont  de  la  Concord  is  a  central  and  much  fre- 
quented point ;  but  if  you  like,  we'll  say  in  front  of  the  Opera 


IS   A.  "NAPOLEON  "    WORTH    A    SOU?  9 

Coniique,  or  the  Place  de  la  Bourse,  or  the  Bridge  of  the  Inva- 
lides ;  where  you  will  ?" 

"  The  Pont  de  la  Concord,  let  it  be,"  agreed  Tom. 

"  Good !" 

"  The  hour  shall  be—  I" 

"  Between  twelve  and  one." 

"  And  you  will  undertake  to  cry  them  for  sale  ?" 

"  Precisely." 

Tom  drew  forth  his  purse  and  "  planked." 

"  Of  course  we  are  to  witness  the  transaction,"  he  inquired, 
winking  at  us  askance.     "  Fair  play  and  no  gouging." 

"  "Witness  it — most  surely.  It  will  be  rare  sport  to  see  me 
walking  up  and  down  the  bridge  like  a  Jew  pedler,"  remarked 
George. 

"  The  people  will  swear  you're  crazy." 

"  Let  them  think  what  they  like,  so  I  prove  my  position." 

"  They'll  laugh  at  you,"  said  Tom,  leeringly. 

"  Let  those  laugh  who  win,"  philosophized  G  eorge,  with  a 
stoicism  we  did  not  think  entered  into  his  composition. 

"  Then  it's  all  clearly  understood  and  agreed  upon,  eh?"  ask- 
ed one  of  the  party,  gathering  up  the  stakes  quietly,  and  depos- 
iting them  in  his  pocket. 

"  It'll  never  do  for  me  to  appear  in  my  usual  dress,"  said 
George.  u  We'll  try  this  experiment  this  very  day.  If  I  could 
only  manage  to  rake  up  an  old  pair  of  trowsers,  a  <  shocking 
bad'  hat,  and  a  well-worn  vest,  I  could  make  up  splendidly." 

"  Allow  me  to  offer  a  suggestion.  What's  fair  for  you  is  also 
fair  for  me.  You  are  sanguine,  so  give  me  a  chance,"  said  Tom. 
"  What  I  was  going  to  suggest  is,  if  you  disguise  yourself  to 
look  like  an  outcast,  why  then  of  course  everybody  will  fore- 
bear, if  its  just  from  your  wretched  appearance.  No,  do  it  in 
this  way.  Assume  some  other  dress,  but  let  it  be  atieast  semi- 
respectable.  Besides,  if  the  police  were  to  find  a  shabby,  forlorn 
fellow  with  three  Napoleons  in  his  possession,  they  would  nab 
you  to  a  certainty." 


10  DASHES   OF    AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

"But  you  folks  would  be  about,  to  set  matters  right," 
remarked  George.  "  This  is  somewhat  a  bold  task,  and  might 
lead  to  trouble  if  unexplained." 

At  last  it  was  settled  that  George  should  wear  a  very  respect- 
able beaver  to  begin  with  ;  a  coat  somewhat  ditto,  and  trowsers, 
boots  and  waistcoat,  so-so-ish.  The  boys  everhauled  their  trunks, 
and  a  selection  of  costume  was  made,  in  which  our  hero  was 
quickly  invested ;  and  without  stopping,  at  this  visit,  to  look  at 
the  beautiful  flowers  and  walks  about  the  charming  little  villa, 
we  all  hurried  off  to  Paris. 

It  was  quite  half-past  eleven  when  we  reached  the  Madeleine, 
opposite  which,  previous  to  commencing  operations,  we  "  ad- 
journed" to  enjoy  a  private  soda-fountain  by  way  of  refresh- 
ment. The  church  of  St.  Roche  chimed  twelve,  and  hastily  cross- 
ing the  square,  and  scenting  the  light  mist  from  the  beautiful 
fountains  of  the  Concorde,  we  gained  the  bridge.  George  had 
his  gold  pieces  all  ready,  and  planting  himself  in  a  conspicuous 
position,  with  his  back  to  the  parapet  (he  spoke  French  with  a 
fluently  correct  accent),  and  with  a  well-expressed  sincerity  of 
countenance,  cried: — 

"  Who'll  give  a  sou  for  a  real  Napoleon  ?" 

We  were  scattered  about  promiscuously,  in  order  not  to  bo 
supposed  interested  in  the  proceeding.  We  looked  over  the 
bridge  carelessly,  and  watched  the  sunbeams  shimmering  on  the 
bright  waters  of  the  Seine;  our  friend  Tom,  who  was  more 
directly  interested  than  any  of  us,  lounged  as  near  George  as 
prudence  would  permit,  in  order  to  stir  him  up  if  necessary, 
and  the  remaining  two  mingled  in  the  passing  throng,  and  by 
admirable  tact  managed  to  be  "  about"  a  good  portion  of  the 
time.  The  trial  was  to  extend  for  one  hour,  it  will  be  remem- 
bered.    George  again  cried  in  a  loud  clear  voice — 

"  Who'll  give  a  sou  for  a  real  Napoleon  ?" 

As  his  voice  died  away  over  the  Pont,  we  were  strikingly 
reminded  of  the  similarity  of  the  cry  of  the  magician  in  "  Al- 


IS    A    "  NAPOLEON  U    WORTH    A    SOU  ?  11 

ladin,"  who  wished  to  exchange  new  lamps  for  old  ones.  It 
then  occurred  to  us,  as  we  idly  watched  the  glassy  curls  of  the 
water  beneath,  whether  there  was  any  possible  hope  of  anything 
as  strange  coming  out  of  this  adventure  as  befell  our  friend  of 
the  fairy  legend.  For  a  moment  our  fanciful  imagination  got 
the  better  of  us,  and  while  we  were  pursuing  the  magic  thread 
of  a  whole  palace-full  of  pretty  thoughts,  in  which  George  had, 
by  the  wand  of  a  wierd  enchanter,  been  converted  into  an 
Eastern  prince,  and  had  just  mounted  a  great  golden  staircase, 
we  were  all  at  once  brought  to  a  sense  of  our  actual  condition 
by  some  one  saying  behind  us — 

"  Take  care,  young  man !  you'll  fall  over." 

These  words  shattered  the  spell  with  the  swiftness  of  thought, 
and  again  our  attention  was  directed  to  our  friend  George, 
crying  (only  he  expressed  it  in  French) — 

"  Here's  a  real  Napoleon  for  a  sou.     Who'll  have  one  ?" 

The  tide  of  life  flowed  on  either  side  of  the  bridge.  Crowds 
of  people  walked,  strolled,  sauntered,  and  hurried  by,  as  the 
case  might  be.  Some  took  no  notice  of  his  cry ;  others  stared 
at  him,  and  said  to  their  companions,  "  He  must  think  us  fools ;" 
while  a  group  of  loungers,  among  whom  were  several  soldiers 
and  children,  gathered  about  him,  and  listening  for  a  few  mo- 
ments, and  making  a  hundred  idle  remarks,  passed  on  incredu- 
lous. 

We  looked  at  our  watch,  and  found  that  half  an  hour  had 
elapsed,  and  yet  no  purchasers.  At  least  three  thousand  peo- 
ple had  passed  our  friend,  and  out  of  those  three  thousand  no 
one  believed  the  truth — that  they  could  have  purchased  a  gold 
piece  of  the  value  of  twenty  francs  for  one  copper  sou.  Things 
were  looking  hideously  dark  for  Tom ;  one  by  one,  his  sixty 
francs  were  passing  from  his  own  pocket  into  that  of  his  rival 
opinionater,  at  the  rate  of  just  one  per  minute.  We  glanced 
towards  Tom,  and  he  seemed  uneasy.  Passing  George,  he  said 
to  him  pointedly — 


12  DASHES    OF    AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

"  Thunder !  I'm  flat  beaten  if  you  don't  change  your  position. 
Test  it  thoroughly.     Walk  about,  and  shout  a  little  !" 

George,  with  a  most  imperturbable  face,  relinquished  his  stand, 
and  followed  by  a  crowd,  paced  the  bridge  on  both  sides  from 
one  end  to  the  other,  and  shrieked  as  loud  as  his  lungs  would 
permit —  t 

"  Who'll  give  a  sou  for  twenty  francs  ?  Genuine  gold !  Ex- 
amine before  you  buy!  This  is  your  only  chance!  Buy! 
Buy  !     Only  think,  a  Napoleon  for  a  sou !" 

Two  pretty  little  brunettes,  with  raven  hair,  and  coal-black 
eyes,  passed  George  as  he  gave  vent  to  the  last  shriek.  He 
fixed  his  eyes  on  them,  and  repeated  the  cry.  They  stopped — 
hesitated — exchanged  glances,  and  approached  the  gold-hawker, 
simpering,  and  half  disposed  to  risk  a  sou. 

George  held  the  coin  between  his  finger  and  thumb,  and 
managed  to  let  a  sun-ray  fall  on  it,  which  caused  it  to  glitter 
most  attractively.  The  elder  of  the  girls  followed  its  sparkle 
with  her  deep  black  eyes,  and,  smiling  at  her  companion,  said — 
61  Que  je  le  voie,  monsieur."  ("  Let  me  look  at  it.'*) 
George  handed  it  with  an  air  more  courtly  than  his  garments 
indicated,  and  Tom's  face  at  the  prospect  of  a  purchaser  lit  up 
at  once  with  the  brightness  of  a  Chinese  lantern. 

"  II n 'a pas  Vair  bon"  (a  It  does  not  seem  good,")  said  the 
girl,  filliping  the  coin  in  order  to  test  its  ring. 

George  looked  earnestly  into  her  eyes,  and  protested  it  was 
good ;  but  the  warmer  he  grew,  the  less  the  girl  seemed  disposed 
to  purchase.  His  very  anxiety  seemed  to  swell  their  latent 
doubts  into  manifest  unbelief,  and,  handing  it  back,  she  said — 
"  Je  le  crois  mauvais"  ("  I  think  it  is  a  bad  one ;")  "  reportez- 
le?  ("  take  it  back.")  And  laughingly  turning  to  her  companion, 
who  was  adjusting  one  of  those  little  loves  of  laced  bonnets 
that  only  French  girls  wear,  they  hurried  off  amid  the  mirth  of 
a  group  of  bystanders,  one  of  whom — a  small,  dirty,  tattered, 
organ-boy — shouted  after  them — "  II  court  beaucoup  defausse 


IS  a  "napoleon"  worth  a  sou?  13 

monnaie"  ("  There's  lots  of  bad  money  in  circulation.")  We 
could  have  heartily  tweaked  the  young  rascal  for  his  audacity, 
but  merely  executing  sundry  elaborate  sniffles  on  a  very  pug 
nose,  with  various  appeals  to  his  handkerchief,  he  ran  off  to 
join  a  youngster  of  about  his  own  age  and  rags  whom  he  espied 
sousing  his  toes  in  the  Seine. 

Three-quarters  of  an  hour  had  glided  on,  and  still  French 
credulity  was  at  a  dreadful  discount.  Tom  whispered  to  us 
that  he  had  been  rash  in  saying  what  he  had  about  the  frog- 
eaters,  and  concluded  to  give  it  up  as  a  hopeless  case.  He 
walked  after  George,  and  told  him  that  he  might  suspend  his 
endeavours,  as  all  hope  had  fled,  and  that  his  views  were  fast 
dissolving. 

"  No,  no ;  your  dissolving  views  may  be  all  very  well,  but 
I'll  fulfill  my  time  to  the  minute.  When  it  strikes  one,  I'll 
pocket  the  gilt,  and  not  a  moment  before.  If  yoiCre  tired  of 
hearing  me  sacrifice  good  gold  to  base  copper  I  can't  help  it, 
but  I  must  endeavour  to  keep  on.  Here's  a  Napoleon  going 
for  a  sou.     Who'll  buy !  who'll  buy !" 

It  lacked  but  five  minutes  of  the  hour,  when  G-eorge  was 
addressed  by  a  nursery-maid,  leading  a  little  boy  of  about  four 
summers,  attired  in  a  coquettish-looking  pink  frock,  with  red 
boots.  She  had  been  attracted  by  the  cry,  and,  bending  over 
and  saying  something  to  the  child  which  caused  its  little  eyes 
to  glisten,  she  pulled  from  her  pocket  a  sou,  handed  it  to  George, 
and  gave  the  Napoleon  to  the  child  as  a  plaything.  By  the 
time  she  had  got  off  of  the  bridge  the  clock  struck  one,  and 
George,  thrusting  the  remaining  coins  into  his  vest-pocket, 
joined  us,  and  wo  strolled  leisurely  towards  the  Rue  St.  Ho- 
nore. 

t;  Well,  Tom,"  said  the  late  hawker,  "  What  do  you  think  of 
my  courage?     I  stood  it  out,  you  see." 

"  How  wrong  people  can  be  on  this  earth  !  You  had  courage 
enough  for  a  brigade,  to  do  what  you  did.     Everybody  said  to 


14  DASHES    OF    AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

himself,  '  That's  brass  he  holds  in  his  hands ;'  but  it  was 
just  t'other  way :  it  was  gold  in  your  fingers,  and  brass  some- 
where else — hem  !     Boys,  we'll  adjourn  and  cool  our  throats." 

"  Are  you  satisfied  that  the  Parisians  are  not  as  defraudable 
as  you  imagined  ?" 

"Quite;  to  the  tune  of  sixty.  But  no  matter,"  replied 
Tom. 

"  The  one  that  did  go  was  not  bought,  because  the  girl  thought 
it  real.  The  fact  of  her  giving  it  to  the  child  showed  that  she 
regarded  it  as  a  mere  toy." 

"  There,"  cried  Tom,  biting  his  lips  with  slight  mortification; 
"  I'm  convinced  beyond  redemption.  Let's  drop  the  subject, 
and  wash  away  the  remembrance  of  it  in  a  bottle  of  old  Bur- 
gundy." 

We  all  dined  that  afternoon  at  a  dashing  cafe,  somewhere  in 
the  Rue  Montorgueil,  and  we  have  a  dim  recollection  of  finding 
ourselves  next  morning  in  a  strange  chamber  overlooking  a 
garden  of  beautiful  flowers,  at  Chantilly. 


15 


OLD  DAN  OF  CONNECTICUT  RIVER. 


The  picturesque  banks  of  the  river  Connecticut  are  dotted 
with  charming  little  villiages  that  break  here  and  there  upon  the 
sight  like  feathers  of  light,  dancing  among  the  willow  leaves ; 
there  is  such  a  dazzling  irregularity  of  house  and  hill — so  much 
faily-like  confusion  of  vista,  landscape,  and  settlement.  Now 
we  pass  a  tiny  white  and  vine-clad  cottage,  that  looks  as  if  it  had 
been  set  down  yesterday — now  we  sweep  majestically  by  an  am- 
bitious young  town,  with  its  two,  three,  or  half-a-dozen  church 
spires,  sending  back  the  lines  of  narrow  light  into  the  water — 
anon  we  glide  past  a  forest  of  majestic  old  trees,  that  seem  to 
press  their  topmost  buds  against  the  fleecy  clouds  floating  in  the 
blue  sky — and  through  these  forests  we  catch  glimpses  of  the 
oriole  dashing  through  the  boughs  like  a  flake  of  fire,  or  the  merry 
thrush  trilling  its  wild  wood-notes,  while  hundreds  of  joyous 
little  birds  are  carolling  their  songs  in  the  very  perfection  of 
natural  gladness. 

The  Connecticut  is  a  delightful  stream.  To  be  sure  we  do 
not  see  on  its  banks  baronial  castles,  ivy-mantled,  the  token  of 
feudal  days,  when  people  inserted  themselves  into  heavy  suits  of 
armour,  and  carried  lances  about  of  an  absurd  length ;  neither  do 
we  see  shining  piles  of  marble  that  are  supposed  to  reflect  their 
shadows  in  the  Adriatic ;  'tis  true  wo  miss  tho  orange-groves 
that  skirt  the  Guadalquiver ;  wo  find  no  lotus-flowers  that  one 
sees  up  the  Nile,  after  one  has  feasted  on  the  pyramids,  and  re- 
turned from  tho  bazaars  of  Constantinople  ;  we  have  no  wish  to 
see  painful  rows  of   smoko-staincd  warehouses  that  wall  the 


16  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

Thames.  But  in  lieu  of  all  these,  one  sees  such  rose  and  golden- 
lined  skies — such  fresh,  genial,  and  brilliant  scenes — such  "  little 
loves"  of  villages — so  many  busy,  neat,  tidy-looking  towns — 
such  a  variety  of  pretty  gardens  blooming  with  roses  and 
flowers,  crimson,  pink,  blue,  and  yellow,  twining  their  tender 
branches  lovingly  and  trustingly  over  whatever  object  comes  in 
their  way. 

It  is  usual  for  writers  of  tales  to  make  whatever  river  runs 
through  their  story,  as  the  "  golden  stream  of  all  the  gods," 
and  for  fear  the  indulgent  reader  should  suspect  us  of  the  same 
romantic  but  extravagant  line  of  conduct,  we  wish  it  distinctly 
understood  that  the  river  in  question  deserves  everything  amia- 
ble that  can  be  said  of  it.  From  the  humble  origin  of  its  rise, 
until  it  ceases  to  be  recognized  as  the  Connecticut,  it  presents  a 
beautiful  succession  of  natural  and  artificial  objects. 

In  one  of  the  oldest,  smallest,  and  most  sequestered  of  these 
river  settlements,  containing  not  more  than  a  score  or  so  of  small 
white  houses,  located  in  a  gentle  vale,  that  gradually  slope  from 
the  river's  edge,  and  not  sufficiently  elevated  for  a  glimpse  of  the 
solitary  church  spire  to  be  caught  on  the  river — lived  a  strange, 
eccentric,  whimsical  old  fellow,  whom  tradition  had  taken  the 
liberty  of  calling  Daniel  Suggs,  for  want  of  a  more  proper  and 
legitimate  patronymic.  The  origin  of  this  man  seemed  to  date 
so  far  back  that  the  genealogical  line  became  twisted  and  finally 
lost  in  the  search.  The  "  oldest  inhabitant"  only  remembered 
him  as  a  wild,  reckless  youth,  with  an  irrepressible  love  of  ad- 
venture, who  frequently  absented  himself  for,  not  days  and 
months,  but  years,  and  then  all  at  once  would  turn  up  in  his 
li  supposed"  native  town,  possibly  on  a  very  fine  morning,  some- 
thing after  the  supernatural  suddenness  of  Prince  Selim,  in  the 
"  Arabian  Nights."  His  departure  was  always  as  abrupt  and 
unexpected  as  his  return — there  were  no  social  connections  to 
wish  him  good  speed,  nor  gentle  eyes  to  light  him  on  his  journey. 
He  would  be  seen,  possibly,  lounging  in  front  of  the  elm  grove, 


OLD   DAN   OF    CONNECTICUT   RIVER.  17 

or  angling  in  the  mill  stream,  with  a  favourite  dog  lying  by  his 
side  :  the  next  day  he  had  gone,  and  his  mysterious  disappear- 
auce  formed  a  morsel  of  gossip  for  a  knot  of  old  crones,  who 
stroked  their  wrinkled  brows  and  pronounced  him  "  a  strange 
sort  of  creeter."  When  his  memory  had  faded  away,  and  the 
pranks  of  the  noisy  scape-grace  had  ceased  to  be  adverted  to, 
who  would  rise  up  like  a  phantom  from  the  dusty  roadside,  but 
the  self-same  Dan,  looking  just  as  benignant  and  reckless  as  ever? 
Everybody  knew  him,  and  he  knew  everybody,  and  the  off-hand 
casual  manner  with  which  he  would  excuse  his  long  absence  was 
as  admirable  as  it  was  peculiar. 

"  Why,  Dan,  where  on  earth  have  you  been  V  the  village  bar- 
ber would  say. 

"  Why,"  he  would  reply  musingly — u  odd's  me,  I'd  rather 
you'd  ax  me  whar  I  hant  been." 

"  You  never  told  us  you  were  going." 

"  Well,  on  my  honour,  it  never  struck  me  to  do  so.  The  fact 
is,  I  was  fishin'  for  roach — just  the  day  afore  I  went  to  Spain — " 

"  Spain  !  good  heavens,  Dan,  you  don't  mean  to  say — " 

"  That  I've  been  to  Spain—" 

"Yes?" 

"  And  Port-e-gal  too — and  drank  an  ocean  of  fruit-juice,  and 
made  wreaths  of  pu?ple  grapes  for  the  senoras  to  wear.  Well, 
as  I  was  sayin',  if  }^ou'll  allow  me  to  go  on,  the  day  afore  I 
went  to  Spain  I  was  fishin'  fgr  roach,  and  strike  the  luck  nothin' 
would  bite  but  eels.  I  must  have  set  in  the  brilin'  sun  three 
hours,  and  not  a  roach  would  say  '  how  d'  do  !'  to  my  hook.  I 
got  mad — jumped  up,  and  vowed  I'd  not  stay  in  a  part  of  the 
country  where  a  man  couldn't  get  his  wishes.  '  Where  shall  I 
go  ?'  said  I :  somethin'  like  an  echo  from  the  hum  of  the  mill- 
wheel  answered  <  Spain' — and  off  I  went  without  as  much  as 
sayin'  one  word  to  a  livin'  soul  except  Tuig — poor  Tuig — he 
died  on  shipboard — he  was  as  honest  and  faithful  a  brute  as 
ever*  lived,  and  for  the  first  time  in  my  life  the  dew  stole  into 


18  DASHES   OF    AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

my  eyes  when  he  could  no  longer  lick  my  hand/'  and  Dan,  at 
the  memory  of  his  dog,  turned  away  his  head,  and  forced  back 
a  tear  that  welled  up  at  the  sad  recollection. 

Notwithstanding  the  incertitude  that  danced  attendance  on 
Dan's  origin,  he  was  universally  loved;  even  those  straight-faced 
puritanical  persons  who  censured  his  recklessness,  owned  that 
he  was  honest  and  good-natured  to  a  fault.  His  very  manner 
— brusque  and  primitive — though  it  was  lacking  polish,  and 
hard  as  the  diamond,  like  the  gem  in  the  rough,  exhibited  a 
wildness  of  natural  beauty  that  told  of  hidden  worth.  The  puz- 
zle of  his  birth  seemed  to  give  his  rude  romantic-  nature  a  dou- 
ble zest,  and  had  it  been  clearly  and  satisfactorily  explained  who 
were  his  forefathers,  that  halo  of  genial  mystery  lingering  around 
him  would  have  been  for  ever  removed,  and  he  must  eventually 
have  deemed  himself  the  mere  anomalous  roamer  of  hmd  and 
sea.  But  traditionary  superstition  was  busy  with  Dan  although 
he  was  not  aware  of  it.  Some  of  the  old  women,  setting  aside 
the  laws  of  Nature,  were  of  the  horticultural  belief  that  he  had 
emanated  from  a  huge  pumpkin  that  had  been  planted  by  a  certain 
outlandish  descendant  of  Oliver  Cromwell,  when  the  . 
first  settled.  Others  seemed  to  agree  that  he  was  a  son  of  the 
Wandering  Jew,  but  with  no  inborn  pur)  '!  :  and  tin 

ton  very  frequently,  on  the  sly,  retailed  a  dream  he  had  had  the 
night  the  stars  fell,  in  which  nocturnal  vision  it  appears  that 
Dan  was  shadowed  as  having  emcrgej.  from  a  spry  young  willow7  - 
tree  that  waved  its  tender  branches  over  the  new-made  grave  of 
a  usurer.  An  old  fortune-telling  woman,  who  made  monthly 
excursions  into  the  village,  for  the  purpose  of  reading  the  palms 
of  the  love-lorn  girls,  and  who  it  was  said  lived  in  a  hut  in  the 
forest — this  gipsy  fortune-telling  hag  very  gravely  laid  Dan's 
origin  at  the  door  of  a  certain  man  of  great  estates  who  had 
long  since  died  at  some  ancient  castle  in  Scotland.  Dut  all  of 
these  opinions,  diverse  and  conflicting  as  they  were,  did  not  give 
Dan  any  great  trouble.     It  would  have  been  the  same  to  his 


OLD    DAN    OF    CONNECTICUT    RIVER.  19 

happy  frame  of  mind,  whether  he  were  the  shoot  of  a  pumpkin, 
the  scion  of  the  Wandering  Jew,  the  branch  of  a  willow  tree, 
or  a  cast-away  heir  of  a  Scotch  baronet.  As  matters  stood,  he 
was  troubled  with  no  family  connections,  and  kind  mother  Na- 
ture, under  the  circumstances,  having  behaved  wisely  in  creating 
him  callous  to  worldly  views,  he  went  his  way  rejoicing — an  ec- 
centric, sun-browned,  good-natured,  athletic  man,  with  no  strong 
affection  for  anything  except  his  rifle,  and  a  predilection  for 
relating  "  whopping"  stories  of  his  travels,  and  incidents  of  ad- 
venture which  no  mortal  since  the  days  of  Baron  Munchausen 
could  have  experienced  under  any  possible  circumstances. 

As  Dan  grew  up  and  disappeared,  and  returned  from  time  to 
time,  he  was  certain  to  bring  with  him  quantities  of  the  most 
unheard-of  exploits,  until  in  late  years,  when  his  presence  was 
in  the  end  expected,  his  return  was  looked  forward  to  with 
feelings  of  t^ae  liveliest  interest.  He  was  regarded  as  an  ignis 
fatuns  of  adventure,  here  to-day,  and  there  to-morrow,  tasting 
the  honey  of  marvels  with  the  flitting  movement  of  the  bee  that 
slyly  enters  the  silken  cups  of  the  flowers.  And  this  feeling 
Dan  himself  had  of  course  cultivated.  According  to  his  own 
account,  he  had  been  everywhere  from  Chillicothe  to  China — 
doubled  both  the  capes  a  dozen  times  at  least — crossed  various 
deserts  (more,  we  suppose,  than  were  on  the  maps),  and  stood 
on  his  head  on  the  peaks  of  more  mountains  than,  put  close  be- 
side each  other,  would  create  a  moderate-sized  continent.  He 
thought  nothing  of  breakfasting  in  Nubia  on  a  lion's  back, 
lunching  with  a  brown  bear  on  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  then, 
by  way  of  exercise,  taking  a  facetious  turnabout  in  the  Mael- 
strom, or  playing  "  hop,  skip,  and  jump,"  among  the  glaciers  of 
Mont  Blanc,  where  the  air  was  most  rarified,  as  the  case  might 
be.  He  was  the  only  American  friend  the  Governor  of  Japan 
ever  recognized,  and  he  had  repeatedly  advised  him  in  the  send- 
ing out  of  savage  fleets  for  the  subjugation  of  neighboring  na- 
tions.    The  glittering  icebergs  of  the  polar  seas,  he  knew  by 


20  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

heart.  He  insisted  on  having  had  confidential  chats  through  the 
chinks  of  the  pyramids  with  mummies  that  had  been  dead  four 
thousand  years  ;  and  as  to  the  mystery  of  the  Sphynx,  the  rid- 
dle was  as  plain  to  him  as  the  nose  on  his  face,  if  he  only  choose 
to  tell  it.  He  had  used  Cleopatra's  needle  for  a  toothpick  on 
more  than  one  occasion  after  dining  on  roast  hippopotamus  and 
giraffe  jelly.  He  had  seen  enough  of  "  them  Chinese"  to  advise 
old  people  who  treasured  their  nerves  to  use  black  tea  instead  of 
green,  and  on  more  than  one  occasion  ventured  to  rashly  assert 
that  every  cigar  smoked  in  England  was  not  all  tobacco,  by  con- 
siderable. So  he  went  on,  to  the  delight  of  the  rustics,  who 
wondered  indeed,  to  adopt  the  idea  of  poor  dear  Goldsmith, 
"  that  one  small  head  could  carry  all  he  knew." 

When  Dan  was  at  home — if  the  small  settlement,  with  the 
slenderest  idea  of  propriety  could  be  called  "  home" — he  took 
up  his  abode  in  a  rough  log  structure,  surrounded  by  a  white 
pale-fence,  which  he  called  his  cottage,  but  which  the  neighbor- 
hood had  christened  "  Dan's  Den."  It  was  a  curious  old  pile, 
composed  of  rough-hewn  oaken  logs,  locked  together  and  wed- 
ded at  the  seams  by  satisfactory  daubs  of  red  clay,  which  the 
sun  had  baked  into  a  substance  tolerably  substantial.  Over  this 
bleak  framework  were  thrown  long  black  branches  of  various 
trees,  the  interstices  being  stuffed  with  moss  and  straw,  and 
then  the  whole  paved  with  dark  rows  of  uneven  stones,  which 
afforded  a  rude  shelter,  and  bid  an  humble  defiance  to  the  storms 
that  might  hurl  their  power  at  the  brow  of  this  little  tenement. 
A  small  temporary  aperture  at  one  side  served  for  a  chimney  ; 
and  one  window,  with  half  a  dozen  panes  of  dingy  glass,  and  a 
pine  door,  swinging  on  a  pair  of  crazy  hinges,  were  the  most  no- 
ticeable exterior  features  of  Dan's  Den.  In  good  sooth  it  would 
have  looked  more  like  the  savage  retreat  of  a  beast  of  the  for- 
est, had  its  wildness  not  been  relieved  by  the  really  neat  white 
fence  that  surrounded  it — presenting  the  idea  of  a  beautiful 
frame  around  a  deformed  picture — and  the  further  and  more 


OLD    DAN    OF    CONNECTICUT   RIVER.  21 

charming  relief  of  a  wild  rose-bush,  that  had  turned  its  tendrils 
around  the  stakes  of  the  gate-posts,  and  broke  into  a  shower  of 
rich  oriental  blossoms,  filling  the  air  with  fragrance,  and  stand- 
ing as  the  sentinel-flower  of  this  rude,  uncouth  structure.  So 
gloomy  a  building  seemed  little  to  deserve  so  fair  an  attendant. 
A  sprite,  "  all  air,  all  poesy,"  doomed  to  the  heels  of  an  ugly, 
grinning  Cyclop,  could  not  have  been  at  more  seeming  contrast  ; 
and  yet  those  crimson-hearted  roses  had  in  nowise  caught  the 
rude  infection.  They  smiled  as  only  roses  do  smile,  and  threw 
their  gay  plumes  to  the  wind  in  the  very  merriest  of  humors. — 
Dan,  with  all  his  homespun  coarseness,  cherished  his  rose-bush, 
and  as  the  buds  appeared  gave  them  the  choicest  of  names.  He 
also  avowed  that  the  flowers  took  turns  about  in  waiting  up  for 
him  at  nights,  and  that  he  kissed  them  by  the  light  of  the  moon- 
beams, and  then  they  folded  themselves  up  with  the  dew  on  their 
breasts,  and  fell  asleep  till  morning.  This  susceptibility  of 
mind  to  objects  of  beauty  softened  the  nature  of  the  man,  and 
made  him  the  jovial  good-natured  creature  of  adventure  that 
he  was. 

But  we  are  committing  an  act  of  mental  petty  larceny  in  thus 
summarily  running  off  with  Dan's  roses  ;  and  so,  returning  pla- 
cidly to  his  cabin,  we  will  conclude  our  account  of  it  by  merely 
remarking  the  clump  of  althea  bushes  growing  about  the  back, 
that  so  gaudily  throw  up  their  broad  saucer-like  flowers  to  the 
sun,  and  casting  a  glance  at  the  curious  old-fashioned  open  tressel 
by  the  door  side,  on  which  is  mounted  a  barrel,  with  a  chain  and 
tin  cup  attached,  and  a  label  painted  in  broad  brown  letters  the 
friendly  invitation— HELP  YOURSELF.  The  casual  infer- 
ence would  be  that  this  barrel  contained  water  ;  but  Dan,  when 
li  at  home,"  disdained  that  popular  fluid,  and  showed  his  hospital- 
ity by  offering  his  visitors  something  more  substantial  and  less 
plentiful.  To  be  brief,  it  contained  hard  cider  ;  so,  after  all,  in 
visiting  Dan's  queer  rude  old  residence,  one  had  to  pass  a  rose- 
bush in  bloom,  and  a  friendly  request  to  quench  one's  thirst,  and 


22  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

these  were  no  mean  attributes  in  tranquillizing  the  mind  before 
entering. 

The  interior — the  one-room  dwelling  of  old  Dan  Suggs — was 
a  picture  for  painters  to  study.  AVilkic  would  have  lingered  in 
it,  as  a  rare  subject  for  his  sprightly  pencil.  It  was  in  keeping 
with  the  character  of  its  possessor.  Its  grand  feature  was,  first, 
its  wild  and  general  disorder;  and  then  the  character  of  the 
furniture,  and  the  objects  observable,  wove  a  rugged  uniqueness 
that  appealed  at  once  to  the  suggestive  imagination.  A  hearth, 
with  huge  stone  hobs,  claimed  one  corner,  in  which  lay  the 
smouldering  remains  of  an  arm-load  of  greenwood.  An  oppo- 
site corner  was  curtained  off  to  protect  from  the  gaze  a  floor-bed, 
for  our  hero  had  a  hearty  contempt  of  feathers  and  four-posters. 
Quilts  were  entirely  out  of  the  question  ;  and  a-  lor  pillows,  it 
was  his  opinion  that  they  imparted  a  softness  to  the  head,  which 
in  time  developed  itself  in  other  than  a  physi  He 

glowed  in  bear  skins,  however,  and  was  alive  to  the  genial  power 
of  warmth  concealed  in  a  buffalo  robe. 

Suspended  on  hooks  were  three  or  four  flint-lock  rifles,  one  of 
which  had  a  shattered  stock;  and  side  by  Bide  with  these  for- 
midable weapons  swung  several  rust  !  blades, 
that  looked  as  if  they  had  been  else  than  idle  since  first  wrought. 
Nailed  with  well-arranged  nicety,  were  at  least  twenty  scarps  of 
foxes,  deer  and  bears,  proud  trophies  of  slaughter.  Here  hung 
a  suit  of  dusty  buckskin,  and  there  a  broad  sombrero;  at  one 
side  lay  a  worm-eaten  saddle,  having  as  near  neighbors  the  lac- 
erated remains  of  a  pair  of  leathern  logging,  and  the  more  lively 
companionship  of  several  bead-worked  Indian  moccasins.  For 
the  purpose  of  chairs  various  hewn  blocks  of  wood  had  been 
substituted ;  and  in  lieu  of  a  dressing-table,  with  the  usual  con- 
ventional accompaniments  of  sweet  soaps,  freckle-eradicators, 
hair-unguents,  and  similar  cosmetic  torn-fooleries,  was  a  stolid 
column  of  oak,  hollowed  out,  in  which  fitted  a  basin  of  tin. 
His  tablecloth — though  he  seldom  dined  in  his  cottage — was 


OLD    DAN    OF    CONNECTICUT    RIVER.  23 

the  spotted  skin  of  a  leopard,  for  which  he  had  bartered  beads 
with  some  dreadful  tribe  of  savages  on  the  African  coast. 
Hither  and  thither  were  scattered  minerals  and  fossils  that  he 
had  brought  home  from  time  to  time.  Every  stone  had  a 
story  intimately  linked  with  it.  there  was  an  episode  lurking 
in  the  heart  of  each  pebble ;  and  if  the  stuffed  birds  and  fishes 
that  lay  on  all  sides  had  the  power  of  using  their  tongues, 
what  a  medly  of  odd  reminiscences  would  have  been  evolved, 
to  be  sure  ?  Crusoe's  cave  could  not  have  presented  a  greater 
variety  in  its  very  hey-day ;  though  there  was  a  large  lump  of 
gold  thrown  uselessly  by,  to  heighten  the  value  of  the  satur- 
nalia. 

Such  was  Dan's  museum,  then — a  rugged  collection  of  tokens 
from  every  quarter  of  the  globe.  The  one  object  of  modern 
aspect  that  adorned  the  apartment  was  a  painting — some  said  it 
was  a  portrait — which  he  kept  carefully  shrouded  with  a  black 
cloth,  and  which  he  gave  people  to  understand  was  not  there 
placed  for  scrutiny.  If  any  curiosity  got  about,  from  the  fact 
of  this  picture  being  covered,  nobody  evinced  it ;  though  we 
dare  say,  in  the  bosoms  of  the  town  gossips  it  was  pretty  sure 
to  exist. 

Dan  Suggs  had  been  at  home  "  this  last  spell;'  for  at  least 
seven  months,  and  waxed  weary  of  the  unvarying  round  of  his 
Connecticut  life.  The  beauties  of  the  river,  the  genial  atmos- 
phere, and  the  temptations  of  the  forest — all  palled  on  his  taste, 
and  he  resolved  to  once  more  go  abroad.  A  resolve  with  Dan 
was  no  sooner  formed  than  it  was  clinched ;  there  was  no  ':  back- 
ing out"  in  his  nature,  and  when  he  said  "  I'll  go,"  it  was  a  fair 
synonym  of  "  gone." 

Contrary  to  his  usual  line  of  conduct,  lie  did  not  this  time  dis- 
appear suddenly  and  mysteriously,  as  a  demon  bolts  through  a 
trap  in  a  Christmas  pantomine,  but.  invited  a  number  of  his 
friends  the  night  before  to  a  bout,  and  there  announced  his 
intention. 

9 


24  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR, 

And  the  guests.     There  was  Captain  Spiggot,  the  innkeeper. 

Captain  Peter  Spiggot  was  a  short  dumpy  person,  with  a  pair 
of  very  fat  cheeks,  in  the  centre  of  which  was  placed  a' very  pug 
nose — so  atrociously  pug,  that  had  Captain  Spiggot  been  pur- 
blind he  could  not  have  worn  spectacles.  Captain  Spiggot  was 
one  of  Dan's  warmest  admirers — who  looked  upon  him  as  a  walk- 
ing anecdote;  and,  besides,  Dan  was  a  devoted  patron  of  the 
"  TVkeatsheaf,"  which  perhaps  accounted  somewhat  for  the  afore- 
said admiration. 

There  was  Jack  Coulboy,  a  hard  old  fellow  of  German  extrac- 
tion, who  was  a  jack-of-all-trades,  and  reckoned  among  his 
accomplishments  a  slight  knowledge  of  the  violin.  He  had 
descended  from  a  musical  family  by  his  mother's  side,  and  could, 
by  dint  of  severe  scraping,  rub  four  elderly  tunes  out  of  the 
catgut. 

There  was  Abell  Snukks,  the  miller's  man,  who  with  a  perti- 
nacity peculiar  to  the  craft,  insisted  on  wearing  a  white  hat,  no 
matter  how  dingy  his  face  might  be.  Abell  was  a  tall,  gawky, 
wiry  chap,  that  never  had  an  article  of  clothing  to  lit  him,  for 
his  joints  seemed  to  possess  a  certain  hinge-like  property,  and 
6eemcd  to  shift  about  every  now  and  then.  Abell  boasted  of 
having  lifted  a  great  many  sacks  of  flour  in  his  time,  and  protest- 
ed he  "  could  chaw  as  much  tobacco  as  any  man  of  his  size,"  in 
all  New-England. 

Then  there  were  neighbour  Lee  ;  Harry  Hanks,  the  fisherman, 
who  always  smelt  of  shad ;  and  Captain  Spiggot's  little  boy, 
Hezekiah,  who  had  built  up  quite  a  reputation  in  his  native  town 
for  consuming  brown  gingerbread — particularly  specimens  of  spi- 
ced zoology  in  the  way  of  cake  camels,  elephants  and  lions.  His 
father,  the  captain,  frequently  on  lonely  winters'  evenings,  when 
business  was  slack,  laid  wagers  with  the  neighbours  that  his  son 
Hezekiah  would  undertake  to  eat  twenty  gingerbread  elephants 
in  five  hours  ;  and  setting  the  youngster  up  on  a  high  stool,  he 
was  encouraged  to  stuff  Until  his  little  jacket  almost  burst  with 


OLD  DAN  OF  CONNECTICUT  RIVER.  25 

the  load.  Hezekiali  did  not  want  much  coaxing  for  the  first 
dozen  elephants  ;  but  after  that  he  slowly  munched,  generally 
attacking  the  trunk,  then  removing  the  tail,  and  so  traversing 
the  outline  of  the  animal  till  it  gradually  lost  its  identity. 

This  was  the  "  select  circle"  that  Dan  had  invited  to  pass  the 
evening  at  his  den.  He  had  prepared  several  large  jugs  of 
whisky  toddy,  laid  in  a  good  stock  of  pipes  and  cigars,  and  had 
taken  especial  pains  to  replenish  the  cider  barrel,  which  of  late 
had  evinced  sundry  gurgling  symptoms  of  decline.  Old  Jack 
Coulboy  had  brought  his  Cremona,  but  on  his  way  shattered  the 
bridge,  and  of  course  the  instrument  was  rendered  useless. 

"  Now  boys,  bring  up  your  lounges — they  aint  soft  as — what's 
the  word  I  want  ?"  said  Dan  filling  a  pipe. 

"  Flour  bags,"  suggested  the  miller. 

"  Flour  bags,  no — ottomans — things  I  have  seen  in  the  Injies, 
but  they're  what  I  don't  approve  of  no  how  you  can  fix  it — pull 
'em  up  now,  and  we'll  have  a  game  of  '  brag.'  I  feel  wolfish  to- 
night, and  bleve  I'll  hold  three  or  "  double  pairs'  every  hand. 
Shall  it  be 'brag'?" 

"  For  my  part,  I'm  <  dead  flat  broke  ' — busted  as  clean  as  a 
whistle — not  a  cent  to  git  shaved  to-morrow,"  remarked  Snukks, 
the  miller's  man,  who  was  one  of  those  people,  everywhere  to  be 
met  with,  that  never  by  chance  have  any  change."  "  Praps 
you'll  lend  me  an  X,  Dan,  till  I  see  you  agin." 

"  Would  with  the  greatest  pleasure,  Abell,  but  my  return's 
somethin  unsartin ;  and  I  never  lend  in  i  brag' — it's  cut-tin'  one's 
own  wizzen." 

"  It's  my  opinion  " — this  was  Captain  Spiggot's  usual  mode 
of  heading  a  remark — "  it's  my  opinion  that  we'd  better  not 
play  •  brag '  at  ail ;  but  let  us  set  down,  take  it  cool,  and  Dan'll 
tell  us  a  yarn — what  do  you  say,  Dan  ?" 

"  I'm  on  hand,"  replied  he ;  "  but  I  vote  for  '  brag,'  providin' 
there's  any  blunt  in  the  crowd."' 

"  I'm  sorry  I'm  broke;  but  if  I  had  the  tin  I'd  as  leave  lose 
five  hundred  dollars  as  one,"  said  Abell,  stretching  his  long 


26  DASHES    OF    AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

crane-looking  figure,  and  arising  from  his  seat  apparently  in 
sections. 

If  Abell's  word  could  have  been  taken,  he  would  have  per- 
formed acts  of  frightful  prodigality,  hut  as  matters  stood  his 
monthly  income  barely  supported  him  in  "  backa"  and  "board}" 
and  so  thoroughly  characteristic  of  his  occupation  were  his 
trowscrs,  that  wherever  he  sat  down  he  was  safe  to  leave  a  white 
"  reminiscence"  of  his  presence. 

"  Confound  you,  Abell  Smikks,  you  whitewash  everything 
you  touch,"  said  Dan.  "  Pull  up  that  stool  in  the  middle  of 
us." 

Abell  obeyed  the  direction. 

"Indeed  it's  ray  opinion  that  we'd  better  nol  play,"  said  the 
Captain,  pretending  to  search  his  pock*  :  imehow  or  the 

other  I'm  very  short.     Harry,  snuff  the  candle;  and  a  long 
yarn,  Dan,  would  make  us  terrible  comfortable." 

"Whyj"  quoth  Dan,  ruminating  and  replenishing  his  g 
with  toddy;  "to  tell  you  the  truth.  I  skeercely  know  what  to 

talk  of.     Jack,  supj \  >u  play  something,  and  I'll  stir  up  my 

memory." 

"I've  broke  the  bridge  of  '  Sukey'  or  1  would."  replied  old 
Jack,  shuffling  a  pack  of  very  dingy  cards  that  lie  had  produced 
from  his  pocket. 

By  "  Sukey"  Jack  meant  his  violin,  he  having  thus  named  it 
out  of  respect  after  some  worthy  ancestor. 

"  I  say,  Dan,  you've  heard  of  the  sea  sarpint,  haven't  you," 
inquired  Abell,  staring  at  the  fossil  remains  of  a  mammoth- 
headed  fish,  which  its  possessor  insinuated  was  a  native  of  the 
Dead  Sea. 

"  Heer'd  of  the  sea  sarpint !  Ha !  ha !  ha !"  roared  Dan, 
elevating  his  ponderous  boots  on  a  line  with  his  nose.  "  That's 
a  good  question  to  axe  Dan  Suggs.  Have  I  seen  the  Sarpint  ? 
Have  I  ever  rode  on  his  back  and  gone  into  port,  you  mean,  I 
kalkelate.     Didn't  I  never  tell  you  'bout  that  scrape  :" 


OLD    DAN   OF    CONNECTICUT    RIVER.  27 

The  Captain  was  of  the  opinion  that  he  never  had. 

"  Why,  you  must  be  a-jokin,  Spiggot,  I  thought  the  hull 
State  knew  it." 

Every  one  present  pledged  their  separate  and  solemn  words 
that  they  never  had  heard  a  syllable  on  the  subject. 

"  That  beats  the  savages.  Why,  I'd  a-bet  my  big  toe  'ginst 
a  turnip  I'd  told  you.  It's  one  of  my  great  'ventures.  Abell, 
fill  my  glass,  and  I'll  go  in.     Come  here,  Tom." 

Tom — which  was  a  fierce  overgrown  cat,  as  black  as  Erebus, 
with  large  eyes  that  shone  like  balls  of  fire — walked  with  velvet 
tread  towards  his  master,  and  springing  with  a  bound,  comfort- 
ably settled  on  Dan's  shoulder. 

"  Well,  first  and  foremost  you  must  know,"  commenced  Dan, 
rubbing  his  huge  whiskers  against  puss,  which  caused  him  to 
blink  his  extensive  red  eyes,  "  it  isn't  for  me  to  set  here  and 
tell  you  I  been  a  great  traveller ;  for  it's  ginerally  owned  up  in 
this  part  of  the  world  I'm  all  of  that — " 

"  And  more  too,"  interrupted  Abell. 

"  I'm  of  your  opinion,"  chimed  the  Captain. 

"  Don't  imbarras  the  speaker,  gentlemen,  but  pass  the  punch," 
remarked  Dan  in  the  best  humour. 

"  You  see  last  summer  I  got  kind  of  tired  loafin  'bout  tho 
place,  and  one  mornin'  I  stepped  on  board  the  brig  c  Polly,' 
bound  for  the  Sandwich  Islands,  determined  to  have  a  cruise. 
The  captain,  who  was  out-and-out  human,  and  me  were  as  thick 
as  brothers,  and  the  first  mate  happenin'  to  die  off  the  coast,  I 
was  appointed  in  his  berth.  Well,  I  hadn't  been  more  than 
two  days  in  my  new  service,  afore  one  of  the  sharpest  squalls 
come  up  that  ever  whirled  a  vessel.  The  wind  whistled,  cracked, 
blew,  dashed  everything  into  bits,  and  our  poor  little  craft 
shook  about  like  a  feather-bed  on  horseback.  Odd's  me,  I  kin 
see  the  '  Polly'  now  just  as  plain  as  if  it  was  that  stuffed  otter 
thar,  twirlin'  like  a  tee-to-tum  on  the  waters.  Well,  this  squall 
lasted  two  days  and  two  nights,  and  when  it  cleared  up  we  all 


2S  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

felt  as  if  we'd  been  stook  in  a  bag  against  a  cart-load  of  pavin'- 
stones.  We  lost  one  jib-stay,  the  main  top-sail,  and  our  stern 
taffrail  was  a  mass  of  flinders.  Our  sheets  looked  as  if  they'd 
been  cut  up  for  ribbons  to  make  holiday  streamers,  an'  the  top 
canvas  got  so  tied  up  in  a  knot  that  we  had  a  good  month's 
work  afore  us  to  git  'em  right  agin.  What  was  provok'nest  of 
all,  we  had  made  up  our  minds  after  this  tremenjus  blow  we'd 
have  fair  knock-a-head  winds,  and  soon  get  into  port.  But  here 
our  hopes  were  cornered  most  beautiful.  Instead  of  fresh  galea 
springin'  up,  the  wind,  after  its  'stravagant  lit  had  breathed  its 
last,  and  the  taunt  topsails  flapped  about  with  the  omen  of  a 
long  calm.  I  was  provoked  beyond  everything  human,  an' 
settin'  down  on  a  short  allowance  of  pigtail,  I  kommenced 
carvin'  pine  cupids  out  of  aboard  I  found  in  the  fore  hatchway. 
This  was  mighty  snug  amusement  for  a  landsman — not  that  I'm 
a  lubber,  as  the  sailors  say — but  hardly  the  chalks  for  a  be- 
calmed mate.  What  could  I  do?  Makin1  timber  oupid 
fine  work,  but  it  didn't  pay  the  underwriters,  I  b'leve  you  call 
'em — but  there  was  no  help  for  it.  I  didn't  have  command  of 
the  winds,  or  I  should  have  ordered  up  a  breeze  in  less  than  no 
time,  so  we  sat  on  the  waters  like  a  sleepy  duck.  This  went  on 
for  four  days,  and  on  the  fifth,  when  all  hands  were  gettin'  dis- 
gustin'  lazy  and  loungin'  about  deck  like  overfed  porpoi- 
man  who  was  up  in  the  shrouds — long  Bill  we  called  him — 

"  Was  ho  taller  than  me  ?"  inquired  Snukks,  with  a  dusty 
wink  in  his  right  eye,  doubtless  the  doings  of  the  punch. 

"  It's  my  opinion  you'd  better  not  interrupt  the  speaker," 
suggested  Captain  Spiggot,  whose  pipe  had  turned  upside  down 
in  his  attention. 

"  Taller  than  you !"  exclaimed  Dan.  "  Why  you're  only  six 
foot  seven." 

"  Six  foot  eight — I  beg  your  pardon,"  interrupted  Abell. 
"I  was  measured  on  Easter  Sunday.  Aaron  Ginger's  wife 
insineated  I  could  eat  an  egg  for  every  inch  I  stood  in  my 
gtockin's." 


OLD    DAN   OF    CONNECTICUT    RIVER.  29 

"  You've  got  a  human  appetite  of  your  own,  I  guess,"  pursued 
Dan;  "  but  howsoever  your  niunchin'  stands,  Long  Bill  shoots 
up  past  you  two  foot — he's  a  good  eight  feet,  and  thin  as  a  flag- 
staff. "Well,  as  I  was  say  in,'  Bill  shouts  out  in  a  hoss  voice, 
'  There's  soniethin'  strange  bearen'  on  the  lee  bow  !'  I  didn't 
take  any  partickler  'tention  to  this,  tkinkin'  it  was  one  of  Bill's 
yarns,  and  went  on  whittlen'.  Jist  then  the  Captain,  who  was 
standing  on  the  quarter-deck  with  the  glass,  roared,  '  It's  the 
devil  himself !  Bring  out  the  guns  !'  This  rather  took  me 
aback;  and  throwin'  Mr.  Cupid  into  the  sea  head  formest,  I 
sprang  up  in  the  ropes,  and  may  I  never  scent  bear  meat  agin 
if  I  didn't  see  about  two  miles  of  soniethin'  black  roarin'  and 
pitchin'  on  the  top  of  the  water.  Wasn't  thar  a  rumpus  among 
the  men  !  I  never  seed  anything  like  it  since  I  come  into  the 
world.  The  sea  all  at  once  swelled  and  foamed,  and  though 
there  wasn't  a  breath  of  wind  stirrin',  the  waves  dashed  about 
and  turned  somersets  over  each  other  jist  like  they  do  in  a 
hurry  cane.  It  wasn't  long  afore  we  had  all  the  guns  on  board, 
and  our  Captain,  who  was  bilin'  over  with  clear  grit,  jumped 
up  and  crowed,  and  said,  '  Devil,  or  no  devil,  we'll  have  a  shy 
at  him  1'  Still  the  black  body  moved  on,  and  at  last  it  got  so 
near  the  brig  we  could  hear  it  breathe  under  the  water.  '  Man 
the  boats  with  harpoons!'  'sklaimed  the  Captain;  and  in  less 
time  than  torn  here  could  snatch  a  liver  from  a  dresser,  the  boats 
were  unswung  and  down.  I  was  self  appinted  komander,  and 
standin'  at  the  larboard  gang  with  a  big  iron  spear  in  my  fist 
ready  to  hurl,  the  huge  black  devil  raised  its  head  out  of  the 
water  not  a  furlong  from  me,  and  groaned  like  a  mad  whale, 
Thar!  talk  about  heads.  It  wasn't  a  speck  smaller  than  a 
three-story  house,  and  each  of  its  teeth  was  an  ivory  column 
cut  in  a  gothic  style,  at  least  two  yards  long,  at  a  sudden  guess. 
The  t'rific  sight  made  two  of  our  oarsmen  keel  over,  and  I  don't 
wonder  at  it,  for  of  all  the  hugest,  infernal,  frightful  lookin' 
varments  I  ever  clapt  eyes  on,  it  certainly  did  take  the  belt. 


30  DASHES    OF    AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

It  kept  its  head  out  of  the  brine  only  about  twenty  seconds, 
and  sousing  it  agin,  the  water  flew  about  and  nearly  washed  us 
away.  I  jist  had  time  to  notice  that  the  critter  hadn't  any 
eyes,  and  this  fact  I  took  to  heart  very  encouragin',  for  I 
knew  if  matters  come  to  the  worst  it  left  us  a  young  chance  in 
the  game  that  had  to  be  played.  It  was  as  clear  as  could  be 
that  the  varmint  had  smelt  our  vessel,  and  was  makin1  for  us 
with  a  dead  set.  Thinks  I,  Old  Satin — if  that's  your 
Christian  name — I'll  fool  you  or  splurge  a  tryin;  and  with 
that  I  ordered  the  long  boat  to  pull  around  to  the  other  side, 
and  try  ancLgit  up  a  scent  on  the  starboard  main.  Around 
they  went,  with  Long  Bill  at  the  head,  an1  though  the  move- 
ment of  the  water  fiend  v  minnit  stirren'  up  the  sea  to 
a  dreadful  foam  of  excitement,  they  pitched  round  bravely,  and 
soon  headed  it  off.  In  the  mean  time  I  looked  off  to  see  if  I 
eould  trace  the  end  of  the  enormous  beast,  and  jist  as  far  as  the 
eye  would  reach  I  could  see  the  water  partin'  with  a  tar-black 
line  in  the  centre.  '  Odds  me  !'  said  1  to  myself,  for  1  wouldn't 
dishearten  the  men.  '  here's  no  end  of  trouble  ;  but  I'll  sec  it  out 
if  we  all  get  chawed  to  bits;'  and  tins  thought  had  no  sooner 
flashed  through  my  brain  afore  the  gigantic  eyeless  head  raised 
up  agin  within  ten  foot  of  us,  and  bi.  ;g  !  I  let  drive  my  spear 
with  all  the  force  I  could  muster.  Whew!  talk  of  claret! 
I  had  hit  it  mortal,  and  a  red  column  spouted  up  in  the  air  as 
thick  as  your  leg.  Then  such  plunges,  dives,  and  caper.-, 
never  heard  tell  of.  A  '  demonstration'  from  Vesuvius  was 
nowhar,  and  has  no  biz'ness  to  be  mentioned  in  the  same  breath. 
The  sea  on  all  sides  tossed  and  raved,  and  for  some  time  we 
couldn't  see  the  sun,  it  ran  so  high." 

Abell  opened  his  eyes  very  wide  at  this,  and  the  Captain 
shifted  his  legs  most  ungracefully.  Even  little  Hezekiah 
deserted  the  cars  of  a  gingerbread  pon}~,  which  he  had  been 
reserving  for  a  favourite  swallow,  and  riveted  his  large  gray 
optics  on  the  narrator. 


OLD    DAN   OF    CONNECTICUT   RIVER.  31 

"  Fact,  I  kin  tell  you,"  remarked  Dan,  observing  the  incredu- 
lous stare  of  his  audience.  "  You  never  knew  nie  in  your  lives 
to  sacrefize  truth  to  make  a  good  story.  Don't  all  speak  at 
once,  and  confuse  me  with  komplements.  People  say  I'm  as 
hard  as  a  rock ;  but  when  you  come  to  flattery  I  melt  like  snow 
in  a  June  shower.  And  don't  put  me  out.  Let  me  see,  where 
was  I  ?" 

"  At  the  sun,"  prompted  Abell. 

"  "Wall,  as  I  was  sayin',  for  our  lives  and  bodies,  we  couldn't 
get  a  squint  at  the  sun,  though  it  was  broad  mid-day;  yet,- 
through  the  haze  of  mist  and  vapour,  we  could  see  the  folds  of 
the  monster  writhin' and  twisten\  like  a  mammoth  black  silk 
hangkerchief  in  convulsions.  Long  Bill  and  the  men  in  t'other 
boat  got  dyed  with  the  spout  of  blood,  for  it  fell  in  a  shower 
over  them;  and  the  '  Polly'  looked  as  if  she'd  been  dipped  in 
vermilion.  All  that  now  remained  to  be  done  was  to  give  the 
monster  one  dig  more,  and  it  couldn't  help  bleeden'  to  death  at 
the  rate  it  was  then  leakin'.  I  hunted  up  another  spear,  and, 
takin'  advantage  of  a  momentary  calm,  made  towards  its  head 
agin,  and  sent  iron  Xo.  2  after  its  companion.  This  was  a 
'  cooler' ;  for,  twenty  minutes  after  the  last  strike,  the  sea 
subsided  in  our  neighbourhood,  and,  except  a  long  way  in  the 
distance,  where  we  supposed  the  tail  to  be,  it  was  agin  jist  as 
smooth  as  glass,  only  the  water  looked  as  if  it  had  been  kivered 
with  a  red  carpet.  You  can  imagine  my  feeiiirs  when  I  saw 
the  gigantic  Head  laying  lifeless  on  the  waters.  I  was  so  proud 
of  the  kapture  that,  pullin'  alongside  of  the  huge  victim,  I  jump- 
ed on  to  its  neck,  when  it  gave  a  sort  of  dyin'  twitch ;  and  how 
far  do  you  think  it  threw  me  ?" 

Abell  guessed  ten  feet ;  Spiggot  fifteen ;  Coulboy  twenty ; 
and  little  Jlezckiah.  who  thought  he  might  as  well  be  extensive 
as  otherwise  while  he  was  about  it,  said  half-a-mile,  much  to  the 
chagrin  of  his  father,  who  thought  he  perceived  a  sly  twinkle  in 
the  eye  of  his  offspring  as  he  spoke. 


32  DASHES    OF   AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

"  You're  all  wrong,  though  Hez  is  nearest,"  continued  Dan. 
"  It  tossed  me  seventeen  miles,  and  I  lit  on  the  back  of  the 
monster.  You  well  may  stare  ;  but  where  I  struck,  it  hadn't 
yet  commenced  to  be  dead ;  and  I  give  you  my  word  it  took  me 
six  hours  to  walk  from  where  I  was  thrown,  and  I  had  a  straight 
line  of  it  at  that.  When  I  reached  the  brig,  I  found  'cm  all  in 
a  cruel  state  of  agitation  ;  for  they  thought  I  was  lost  to  a  dead 
certainty,  when  they  saw  me  dart  in'  through  the  air  like  a  mas- 
keline  telegraph.  I  cheered  'em  up  again — told  'em  I  was'nt  a 
bit  siled,  for  it  was  soft  where  I  fell ;  and  then  we  all  hands  got 
together  on  deck,  and  studied  what  we  should  do.  I  proposed, 
the  first  thing,  a  double  allowance  of  grog  all  round,  which  was 
served  out,  and  then  they  all  drunk  my  health  for  savin'  'em 
from  a  horrid  and  sartin  fate.  The  Captain  hung  a  silver  watch 
around  my  neck,  and  told  me  I  had  shown  true  Yankee  stuff,  and 
would  be  an  ornament  to  the  navy.  The  men  all  got  loving 
tipsy,  and  swore  they'd  live  and  die  for  me.  Then  the  Captain 
made  a  speech,  and  oifcrcd  to  resign  in  my  favour  ;  but  I  told 
him,  afore  I'd  displace  him,  I'd  rather  stuff  sassidgesfor  a  livin' : 
and  then  he  swore  I  was  the  noblest  fellow  he  ever  met  in  his 
life,  and  that  I  ought  to  be  President  of  the  United  States  afore 
I  withdrew  from  public  life.  The  men  all  got  so  weak  in  the 
kmee-pans  that  day. we  done  nothin'but  snore;  and  if  the*  Polly' 
ever  had  a  cargo  of  jollity  aboard  of  her,  she  had  then.  The 
Captain  down  to  the  cook  was  as  glorious  '  tight'  as  humans 
could  be.  We  put  the  question  in  reg'lar  form,  whether  any- 
body should  stay  sober  ?  and  old  Whisky  carried  the  day  by  a 
sensible  majority.  The  ship  took  care  of  itself;  and  if  any- 
body had  been  found  sober,  we'd  thrown  'em  overboard.  It 
would  ha'  been  disgusting  and  out  of  all  character  to  hev  walk- 
ed a  chalk-line  on  that  occasion ;  and  the  upshot  of  the  story 
was,  the  next  morning's  sun  found  us  ready  launched,  and  sails 
set  for  duty.  When  we  all  turned  out,  the  adventure  of  the 
preceding  day  seemed  like  a  dream  ;  but  one  glance  at  the  red 


OLD    DAN   OF    CONNECTICUT   RIVER.  33 

splosh  on  all  sides  woke  us  up  in  double-quick-time.  Long  Bill 
looked  like  an  extensive  fresh-burnt  brick  walkm'  about ;  and, 
in  fact,  the  men  were  all  more  or  less  tinged.  The  first  thing 
we  set  about  was  to  take  the  dimensions  of  the  monster,  and 
began  operations  at  his  head.  From  the  tip  of  the  nose  to  the 
back  of  the  neck,  it  measured  a  clean  twenty  feet ;  around  the 
shoulders,  it  lacked  about  an  inch  of  being  seventy  feet ;  from 
the  ears" — 

"  Had  it  ears  ?"  inquired  Abell. 

"  Ears !  to  be  sure  it  had.  Do  you  'spose  it  could  neither  see 
nor  hear?  From  the  ears  around  to  its  belly,  doublin'  the  line 
once  around  the  neck,  it  measured  two  hundred  feet ;  and  the 
teeth,  which  were  of  solid  ivory,  each  weighed  half-a-ton.  Some 
of  the  men  hacked  away  a  bit  of  the  blubber  from  the  lower  jaw 
— for  it  had  a  double  chin  as  fat  as  butter — and  it  yielded  a  gilt- 
edged  ile  that  burned  like  a  Drummond  light !  We  worked  for 
a  week  to  get  out  one  of  the  teeth,  but  it  was  no  good  :  they 
were  rooted  so  firm,  that  axes  and  boardhv -pikes  were  lost  on 
'em.  The  skin  of  the  head,  which  was  a  pale  blue,  and  clocked 
jist  like  old-fashioned  Salem  stockhrs,  was  as  soft  as  sponge ; 
and  this  accounted  for  my  hevin'  killed  him  so  sudden.  If  this 
hadn't  been  the  case,  we'd  all  been  crushed  and  swallowed,  with- 
out doubt ;  for  the  monster  only  had  to  half-open  his  mouth,  and 
if  we'dbeennear  enough,  brig,  mast  and  all,  musthev  slid  in, 
and  never  scraped  his  tonsils  ! 

u  The  strangest  part  of  the  whole  biz'ness  is,  it  never  struck  a 
livin'  soul  of  us  what  it  was  we'd  captured  till  we  had  stood  out 
from  the  moflster  a  fortnight :  then  it  was  as  plain  as  poverty — :' 
u  How  was  that  ?"  inquired  the  miller's  man. 
u  Why.  findin'  there  was  no  hope  of  loadin'  with  ivory,  which 
seemed  to  be  the  only  part  of  our  prize  worth  takin'  on  freight, 
we  rigged  out  a  full  canvas  and  started  to  find  the  monster's 
tail.  We  sailed  on  day  after  day,  but  could  see  no  signs  of  it ; 
and  at  the  end  of  two  weeks,  when  everybody  was  paralyzed  with 


34  DASHES    OF    AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

amazement,  and  we  began  to  think  we  should  never  come  to  the 
conclusion  of  the  long  black  line,  may  I  be  chained  and  never 
let  out  agin  if  the  body  didn't  bend  down  into  the  water,  and 
disappear  with  a  plunge  !  This  was  enough  for  me  :  I  didn't 
b'lieve  it  had  an  end ;  or  if  it  had,  mortal  men  were  doomed  not 
to  see  it.  A  somcthin'  then  whispered  in  my  ear  I  had  done  a 
great  deed,  and  the  fact  dashed  itself  with  uncommon  force  on 
the  ^cach  of  my  mind — " 

u  Good  heavens,  Dan  !  what  was  it  ?"  shrieked  Captain  Spiggot 
and  Abell  simultaneously. 

"What  was  it?"  said  Dan,  the  whole  expanse  of  his  bronzed 
countenance  lighting  up  wit! i  a  glow  of  exultant  good  humour  5 
"how  can  you  ask?     Why,  that  I — I,  poor  Dan  Suggs — had 

KILLED  THE  Sea  SaRPINT,  TO  BE  SURE  I" 

We  need  not  tell  the  reader  that  this  last  achievement  elevat- 
ed our  hero  to  a  still  loftier  position  in  the  minds  of  the  folks 
of  the  Connecticut  River  town;  and  it  has  been  reserved  for 
the  writer  of  t]  — for  otherwise  the  "fact"  might  still 

have  been  withheld  from  an  anxious  public — to  proclaim  Dan 
Suggs  the  original^  or  what  is  called  in  melodramatic  parlance 
the  "first murderer"  of  the  celebrated  and  recently  revrft  ; 
serpent.     Long  may  Dan  live  to  enjoy  his  laurels  ' 


35 


JONATHAN  HOMEBRED. 


CHAPTER  I. 

IN    WHICH   THE    AUTHOR.    MEETS    JONATHAN. 

"  Kin  you  tell  me  the  way  tew  the  cattle-show,  stranger  ?" 
The   speaker  was — but  by  way  of  making  matters  clear  we 
must  first  describe  our  position. 

We  had  but  a  moment  before  turned  out  of  the  National 
Gallery,  where  we  had  been  lingering  in  a  dreamy  state  of  ad- 
miration over  Titian's  exquisite  "  Bacchus  and  Ariadne,"  and 
Garofalo's  "  Vision  of  St.  Augustine,"  and  ungloved  one  hand 
in  order  to  bestow  a  gratuity  upon  a  wretched  old  man,  whose 
pale  cheek  and  care-wrinkled  brow  told  a  tale  of  iron  poverty, 
when  we  were  accosted  as  above,  and  in  a  tone  of  voice  which 
immediately  called  up  visions  of  New  England,  and  announced 
the  owner  of  the  aforesaid  voice,  whoever  he  might  be,  as  thor- 
i  (Highly  and  unequivocally  American.  We  turned  suddenly 
about,  looked  our  interlocutor  full  in  the  countenance,  when, 
much  to  our  astonishment,  who  did  we  recognize  but  a  glorious 
rustic,  homespun  friend  from  the  hills  of  New  Ham  shire,  whose 
acquaintance  we  had  formed  while  "  taking  notes"  through  the 
Eastern  States  several  years  agone.  We  could  scarcely  put 
jfaith  in  the  correctness  of  our  vision,  when  the  rough,  honest  rep- 
1  resentative  of  'tother  side  of  Old  Ocean  sought  its  identity.  He 
was  the  very  last  man  in  the  world  we  should  have  suspected  of 
finding  from  the  sound  of  the  village  church-bell — a  tortoise 


36  DASHES    OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

rashly  and  deliberately  leaving  its  all-protecting  shell  would  not 
have  surprised  me  more. 

"  Why,  Jonathan,  what  in  the  name  of  all  that's  agricultural 
are  you  doing  on  John  Bull's  side  of  the  Atlantic,"  said  we,  or 
rather  roared  we,  for  albeit 

"'Tis  vulgar  (as  Lord  Chesterfield  admonished) 
To  let  folks  see  us  startled  or  astonished.1' 

; 
If  a  grand  jury  of  the  superior  court  of  good-breeding  had  been 

standing  by  to  decide  on  the  fate  of  our  manners,  we  could  not 

have  resisted  the  open  palm  stretched  towards  us.     We  shook  it 

till  we   could  feel  the  warm  blood  mount   with  a  genial  flow  to 

our  temples.     "  How  are  you,  my  good  old  friend  ?  Extremely 

delighted  am  I  to  meet  you  in  London." 

"  Neow,"  exclaimed  Jonathan,  his  ruby  face  gleaming  with 

the  light  of  simple  benevolence,  "  tew  tell  ycou  the  truth,  I  can 

skeercely  account  for  my  comin'  to  England  myself.     You  must 

know  I  got  a  whim  in  my  head  one  day  that  I'd  like  tew  sec  some 

Durham  cattle,  which  I've  hearn  a  heap  abeout,  and  taste  the 

English  mutton,  which  they  dew  say  beats  all  natar.     Well,  I 

told  this  notion  around  tew  some  o' the  neighbors,  among  the 

rest  tew  Isaac  Stairs.    Perhaps  neow  yeou  remember  Ike  when 

ycou  were  down  tew  Barley  Creek — him  that  always  wore  the  red 

cravat  on  mcctin'-days.     Well,  Ike  got  tew  runnin'  me  abeout 

England,   and  went  so  far  as  tew  bet  a  pen'north  of  shoe-laces 

aginst  a  row  of  pins,  with  Hester  Dykes,  that  I  was  afe&redp&uo 

cross  the  sea.     This  come  tew  my  cars  ;  and  if  there's  one  tiling 

more  nur  another  that  riles  me,  it's  to  be  called  a  coward.     My 

Puritan  blood  riz  right  up  iu  my  shirt,  and  the  next  day,  when 

Ike  cum  to  borrow  a  kettle  for  his  wife  to  stew  some  pears  in,  I 

taxed  him  with  what  he'd  said.     The  mean  critter,  instead  of 

being  well  ashamed  of  himself,  snorted  out  intew  a  hoss-laugh, 

and  said  if  I  wasn't  afcard  of  the  sea  I  wuz  of  the  sharks,  and 

so  it  wuz  all  the  same  thing.     I  up  and  told  him  he  wuz  as 


JONATHAN   HOMEBRED.  37 

mean  as  dog-pie,  though  I  let  hiui  hev  the  kettle  ;  but  I  said  tew 
myself,  I'll  go  to  England  ef  it  stops  my  pulse.  Well,  the  wim- 
min  folks  coaxed  me  not  tew  go  sich  a  long  distance  from  hum ; 
said  I'd  never  git  back  alive  ;  or  I'd  git  lost  in  London  ;  and  a 
whole  passal  of  sich  stuff.  But  my  mind  wuz  as  firm  as  a  liberty- 
pole  ;  so  crammin'  a  stockin'  with  hard  cash  I  sit  sail,  and  naow 
yeou  see  me  herejistas  nateral  as  when  followin' hoss-flesh  at 
Barley  Creek  !" 

"  You  proved  that  Yankee  grit  never  flinches,"  we  observed. 

"  I  'bleve  yeou.  Come!  why  I'd  a  kim  ef  I'd  had  tew  take  a 
deck  passage  over  on  a  raft.  I'd  kim  to  the  everlastin'  conclu- 
sion, and  when  that's  done  yeou  might  as  well  try  to  stop  weeds 
growin'  in  a  turnip-patch,  or  keep  chickens  out  of  a  barn  yard.  / 
wuz  bound  to  kim  /" 

"  Bravo  for  old  New-Hamshire  !"  said  we. 

"  The  day  before  I  went  down  tew  New- York  tew  take  the 
steam-ship,  the  na-burs  all  got  tew-gether  and  had  a  sort  of  prayer- 
meeting.  One  of  the  deacons  of  our  church  made  a  speech  abewt 
tu  hours  long,  and  recommended  me  tew  take  a  tin  basin  and  the 
book  of  Job  with  me,  which  advice  I  followed.  I  looked  intew  Job 
several  times,  but  the  tin  basin  I  didn't  want  more  than  twice  ;  so 
arter  that  I  swapped  it  off  with  the  steward  for  a  pen-knife,  havin' 
dropped  mine  overboard  one  day  while  makin'  a  toothpick." 

"  Indeed  !  what  did  you  come  over  in  ?" 

"  The  Baltic." 

"  Pleasant  voyage  ?"  said  we  inquiringly. 

"  Ye-as,  pretty  well.  Had  tu  or  three  sharp  blows.  This 
sea-sickness  is  pesky  bad,  isn't  it  ?  Talk  about  yaller  janders  or 
meazles,  they  ain't  anything  alongside  of  it.  There  wuz  one  fel- 
ler on  board — a  tall  sailer  chap,  with  a  mess  of  hair  around  his 
mouth,  a  former  I  reckon — he  got  so  bad  one  spell  he  wanted 
tew  be  thrown  intew  the  sea.  He  bellowed  dreadful,  and  declared 
if  he  once  got  alive  on  dry  land,  he'd  see  the  sea  further  'fore  he'd 
ever  come  on  it  again.     I  heered  some  of  the  passengers  say  ho 


38  DASHES    OF    AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

wuz  an  Itily  Count,  and  that  he  had  acres  of  diamonds  and  jewils. 
on  board  with  him,  but  I  don't  know  how  this  wuz.  Talk  about 
hair  !  If  there  wuz  a  half-pound  on  his  face  there  wuz  enough  to 
sit  up  an  upholstery  shop  and  allow  you  to  take  an  order  for  half- 
a-dozen  stuifed  parlor  chairs — an  had  'cm  soft  at  that.  Never 
seed  such  a  wadge  in  my  life." 

Before  we  disclose  any  further  of  the  conversation  of  Jonathan 
Homebred,  it  is  proper  that  wc  should  give  our  readers  a  better 
idea  of  the  individual  to  whom  they  arc  listening  with  such  a 
deferential  ear.  He  is  a  man  of  the  medium  height,  broad- 
shouldered,  verging  on  corpulency,  with  a  large  red,  chunky, 
good-natured  face,  over  which  run  lines  beaming  with  good- 
nature; a  pair  of  small  black  eyes  that  twinkle  like  two  little 
gems  set  in  scarlet;  a  large  frowzy  mole  on  the  right-hand  side 
of  his  nose  almost  as  big  as  a  thimble;  with  long  flaxen  hair, 
parted  in  the  middle,  falling  down  carelessly  on  either  shoulder. 
His  dress,  at  the  time  we  are  speaking,  consisted  of  a  pair 
of  New-England  pegged  boots,  with  soles  about  as  thick  as  seven 
good  sized  biffins  piled  one  upon  another;  trowsers  of  a  choco- 
late-colored material,  the  precise  quality  of  which  bafllcd  us,  only 
we  are  able  to  say  that  it  was  extremely  stout,  and  savored 
somewhat  of  the  angelic  odor  of  corduroy;  with  the  slightest 
amalgamating  essence  of  fustian;  coat  matching  with  the 
trowsers,  with  metal  buttons,  and  the  tails  reaching  down 
and  meeting  at  the  calf;  with  a  vest  so  short  that  it  exposed  a 
portion  of  a  very  clean  coarse  shirt,  the  collar  of  which  fell 
around  his  neck,  and  was  sligkty  girt  by  a  single  fold  of  dingy 
brown  ribbon ;  his  suspenders  were  apparent  whenever  he  moved, 
just  peeping  from  below  the  vest,  the  little  green  dots  of  which 
seemed  to  shrink  timidly  into  the  material  in  instinctive  fear  of 
the  great  metropolis  to  which  they  had  been  transported.  The 
picture  would  not  be  perfect  were  we  to  neglect  mentioning  a 
long  pair  of  straps  that  met  the  trowsers  at  about  half-way  up 
the  boot ;  and  his  hat  was  a  burly  old  bell-crown,  narrow  at  the 


JONATHAN    HOMEBRED.  30 

base,  and  exaggerating  as  it  "  upward  went,"  with  a  rim  not 
broader  than  a  sixpence,  the  back  part  of  which  bent  up  with 
long-service.  Under  his  arm  was  a  faded  old  cotton  umbrella, 
minus  two  of  the  wires,  the  handle  turning  in  a  hickory  effort  at 
a  dog's  head,  but  which,  from  the  artist's  deficiency  of  talent  for 
canine  delineation,  had  assumed  the  caput,  to  our  thinking,  of  a 
cross-bred  hedgehog,  with  the  ears  of  possibly  a  mastiff,  but 
more  possibly  a  porker  He  had  no  jack-knife  in  his  hand,  but 
we  will  be  sworn  there  was  one  in  his  pocket,  a  fact  which,  by 
the  way,  developed  itself  in  a  very  strong  manner  before  we 
parted  company. 

As  chatting  within  the  mists  of  the  fountains  of  Trafalgar- 
square  on  a  cold  day  is  by  no  means  agreeable,  though  "  your 
friend  "  be  a  very  dear  one  indeed,  we  suggested  that  Mr.  Home- 
bred should  accompany  us  to  our  lodgings,  where  we  could,  in 
front  of  a  blazing  grate,  talk  over  events  with  the  pleasant  ac- 
companiments of  a  Barranco  (real  brand)  and  a  glass  of  nutty 
port.  Jonathan  at  once  acquiesced,  and  as  a  Hansom  was 
passing  at  the  moment,  we  hailed  the  driver. 

"  Jiminy  Cranks  !  Yew  ain't  agoin  to  ride  in  that  thing,  are 
yeow  ?  It  looks  like  a  patent  coffin  !"  said  our  Yankee  friend, 
gazing  with  an  air  of  curious  interest  at  the  cab,  and  crossing  to 
examine  the  position  of  the  perch.  "  "What  a  pesky  quare  go 
for  the  driver  to  set  behind !  There's  where  these  things  and 
cabs  arn't  alike."  Then,  turning  suddenly  around  to  us,  said, 
"  I  guess  we'd  better  walk,  had'nt  we  ?  " 

"  If  you  positively  object  to  a  Hansom,  I  will  with  pleasure," 
we  said.  But  if  you've  not  rode  in  one  I  should  advise  you  to 
do  so  by  all  means." 

"  Well,  I  guess  I  will,  na'ow  I  think  of  it  ?  It's  a  pity  I 
should  not  hev  a  ride  in  the  cussed  thing  before  I  leave  Eurip. 
How  much,  driver  ?  " 

"  Never  mind  that,"  we  interrupted. 

But  Yankee  curiosity  is  a  huge  hill  to  get  around  in  one 
breath,  and  Jonathan  repeated  the  query. 


40  DASHES    OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

"  Vere  to,  sir  ?  "  inquired  cabby,  who  was  a  dwarfish,  vulgar, 
slippery  specimen,  with  little  pig-tails  of  hair  sneaking  down  on 
his  cheeks.     "  It  depends  hon  the  distance." 

Jonathan  looked  at  us. 

"  To  Oriel  Terrace,  Bayswater,"  we  said 

"  Vy,  seein'  as  how  there's  two  of  you,  and  von's  a  stranger 
in  Lunun,  six  shillins,"  replied  the  sneaky  cabman. 

"  Is  that  abeout  right  ?"  That's  a  mighty  stiff  figure,  though, 
I  kalkelate,  eh  ?"  remarked  Jonathan.  He  then  turned  to  us 
and  said,  "  I'm  told  these  cab  fellars  are  awful  hands  to  take 
advantage  of  yeou,  if  they  get  a  chance.  "When  I  first  kim  to 
London,  chaw  me  up  ef  the  man  that  took  my  luggage  up  to 
the  hotel  didn't  charge  me  half-a-suverin'  for  goin'  about  three- 
quarters  of  a  mile;  and  then  he  up  and  told  me  it  was  lucky  I 
met  him,  as  some  cabmen  was  dishonest." 

We  observed  that  the  cabman  was  taking  the  "  dimensions 
and  circumference "  of  our  friend's  droll  figure ;  and  thinking, 
perhaps,  that  we  were  both  strangers,  and  that  we  were  his  son, 
more  modernized  in  costume  and  mien  than  our  parent,  he  had 
set  his  heart  on  plucking  us,  to  make  up  for  a  dull  day  before. 
We  were  silent,  however,  and  merely  pulling  our  friend  after 
us,  ensconced  ourself  behind  a  miserable  hack,  and  rattled  on. 
Jonathan,  still  haunted  by  the  query,  persisted  in  inquiring  if 
six  shillings  was  not  too  much,  as  he  remembered  Bayswater 
was  not  so  very  far,  having  once  gone  near  there  to  see  the  Mar- 
ble Arch.  We  requested  him  to  be  silent  on  that  point,  and 
we  would  show  him  our  mode  of  proceeding  when  cabmen  at- 
tempted to  exact  unjust  fares.  This  for  a  time  smouldered  his 
curiosity,  and  he  changed  the  subject. 

"  Where  did  you  say  you  lived  ?" 

"Bayswater." 

"  Yaas,  I  know ;  but  somethin'  else.  Owe-real  something. 
I  forgit  the  dratted  thing." 

"  Oriel  Terrace,"  said  we. 


JONATHAN  HOMEBIIED.  41 

"  Terrace — that's  it !  "Well,  naow,  aint  this  the  greatest 
county  this  side  of  sundown,  for  paleyces,  tarraces,  and  vil- 
lans?" 

"  Yillas  you  mean,"  corrected  wa 

"  Yass,  villas  I  mean — I  guess  I  de  w ;  and  some  of  'em  are 
'pizan  purty  too.  If  you'll  bl'eve  my  racket,  I  seen  one  this 
morning,  out  somewhere  about  Pinklico,  that  almost  made  my 
mouth  water ;  it  kind-a-le  was  built  in  the  Gothic  shape,  and 
most  killin'  beautiful  it  wuz.  I  wish  to  Noah's  Ark  I  could 
git  one  of  'em  over  to  Connecticut.  Wouldn't  it  make  some  of 
them  peart  carpenters  open  their  eyes !  They  think  their  mighty 
smart  some  of  them  fellars;  well  so  they  are,  but  when  yeou 
come  to  these  awful,  nice,  gay  little  viilins ." 

"  Yillas,"  prompted  we  emendately. 

?  Yillas,"  repeated  he  with  the  utmos;  bonhommie,  and  laying 
back  with  his  thumbs  in  the  arm-holes  of  his  vest.  "  You're 
right,  I  s'pose,  for  I'm  a  rough  old  New -England  tree,  and  never 
was  any  great  hand  at  prown'cing  things.  Law  bless  my  soul ! 
I  should  jist  like  naow  to  have  a  villa  1  .ke  that  one  at  Pinklico, 
right  slick  on  the  outskirts  of  Barley  Oreek.  "Wouldn't  I  lay 
back  and  take  big  chunks  of  comfort  !  May  be  I  wouldn't  I" 
and  the  old  fellow,  delighted  at  the  mere  anticipation  of  such 
distant  luxury,  opened  his  mouth  and  gave  vent  to  a  series  of 
cachinations  which  caused  the  cab  to  vibrate  in  every  part  like 
a  harpsichord. 

The  dingy  driver  thrust  his  mouth  to  the  hole  and  said 

"  I  'opes  the  gentleman  von't  shake  me  hoff  my  seat." 

"  Go  to  Jehu  with  your  impetence ;"  quickly  said  Jonathan, 
subduing  his  mirth  and  vainly  endeavoi  ring  to  turn  around  in 
order  to  see  the  channel  through  which  the  driver  had  communi- 
cated his  wish. 

11  It  strikes  me  naow,  that  these  men  are  pesky  sassy.  I'll 
git  so  wrathy  some  of  these  days,  that  before  one  of  them  knows 
who  I  am,  I'll  appear  to  'em  with  my  hands  curled  in  an  atte- 
tude.     A  little  of  theyre  sa-as  goes  a  £  reat  way  with  me." 


42  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

Listening  to  the  conversation  of  our  friend,  we  did  not  detect 
that  our  "  whip"  was  following  up  an  old  plan  laid  down  by  cab- 
men from  time  immemorial  to  fleece  uninformed  strangers — by 
taking  a  roundabout  course  to  the  point  of  destination.  Wo 
noticed  that,  instead  of  turning  to  the  left  at  Regent  Circus,  he 
drove  sharply  to  the  right  into  Oxford  Street,  and  was  thread- 
ing his  way  very  comfortably  among  the  broughams  and  curri- 
cles that  were  stopping  up  the  fronts  of  the  mercer  shops  of  that 
beautiful  thoroughfare.  As  we  had  a  semi-inclination  to  ascer- 
tain what  distance  the  fellow  would  take  us  out  of  the  way,  and 
at  the  same  time  retaining  no  positive  recollection  of  ever  hav- 
ing been  taken  for  a  verdant  one  before,  joined  with  a  desire  to 
inform  our  compatriot  of  the  modes  of  defrauding  strangers,  we 
resolved,  as  the  boys  say,  to  "  sec  it  out,"  and  patiently  awaited 
his  next  move.  Wo  soon  gained  Tottenham  Court  Road, 
through  which  we  were  idly  dragged  to  Bedford  Square,  and, 
to  make  a  long  story  short,  in  the  end  we  found  ourselves  again 
at  the  Regent's  Circus,  in  the  proper  line  for  Bayswater.  This 
was  such  a  gross  insult,  even  to  our  presumed  ignorance,  that 
on  arriving  again  at  the  Circus  we  ordered  a  halt.     . 

w  How  is  this,  driver  ?"  asked  we  ;  "  this  is  twice  we've  been 
at  this  place.  This  is  going  it  too  strong.  What  do  you  mean, 
sirrah  ?" 

"  Twice  here  !"  said  the  sneak,  his  eyes  turned  upwards,  and 
affecting  to  utter  a  laugh  of  derision.  "  Vy,  bless  your  soul, 
you  never  vas  so  mistaken  in  your  life.  There's  two  places  just 
alike,  and  this  is  the  second  von.  Vy  you  must  be  strangers  in 
the  city." 

Taken  aback  by  this  master-stroke  of  audacity,  we  once  more 
sank  into  the  cab,  resolved  that  after  we  had  finished  our  jaunt 
we  would  pay  him  off  in  his  own  coin.  In  another  fifteen  min- 
utes the  vehicle  stood  in  front  of  our  lodgings. 

Descending,  Jonathan  was  diving  to  the  bottom  of  an  old 
blue  stocking,  which  served  as  a  purse,  and  vainly  endeavouring 


JONATHAN   HOMEBRED.  43 

to  fish  from  somewhere  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  toes  the  six 
shillings,  demanded,  in  the  first  instance,  by  the  driver. 

"We  motioned  our  friend  to  put  up  his  stocking,  which  he  did, 
laying  it  carefully  in  his  hat. 

"  Bad  place  to  carry  money,"  said  we  apart. 

"  O  no,  sir,  I'm  as  keerful  as  ken  be.  Ain't  as  keerful  as  poor 
old  Betsy  Sammons  of  Piscataqua  though  ;  she's  never  had  but 
one  five-dollar  gold  piece  in  her  life,  and  she's  so  afraid  some- 
body '11  take  it  from  her,  that  she  sleeps  with  it  in  her  mouth." 

"  Fare,  gen'lm'n,  please,"  said  the  cabman,  impatiently.  "  It's 
a  long  way  up  here,  and  my  stand's  down  at  Woodford,  you 
see." 

"  Young  jnan,"  said  we  sturdily,  "  descend  from  that  box." 

"Sir?"   ^> 

"  Get  down — I  want  to  have  a  moment's  private  conversation 
with  you." 

a  Yes,  sir ;"  and  not  suspecting  what  was  in  store  for  him,  he 
descended  with  wonderful  alacrity. 

"  Now,  sir,"  said  we. 

"  Yes,  sir  !" — with  a  touch  of  the  hat. 

tt  Do  you  know  what  I  think  of  you  ?" 

Suspecting  now,  from  our  manner,  that  all  was  not  right,  he 
assumed  that  air  of  insolent  defiance,  which  only  cabmen  can 
assume — it  being  a  part  and  parcel  of  their  avocation — and 
said : — 

"  I  don't  care  vot  you  thinks  hof  me  ;  I  vants  my  fare." 

"  And  what  is  your  fare  ?" 

"  Six  shillins ;  but  as  you  seem  scrusty  I'll  take  five  and 
tup'ence" — twisting  his  little  sneaking  pigtail  locks. 

"  Will  you,  indeed  ?" 

"  Yes,  master." 

"  Your  legitimate  fare  is  two  shillings,  but  there's  a  half- 
crown,"  and  we  proffered  the  coin ;  at  which  he  turned  aside 
and  flicked  a  cork  from  the  curb  with  his  whip. 

"  Will  you  take  it  ?" 

> 
I 

! 
I 


44  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

"  I  vants  five  shillings.  There  now,  master,  it's  a  good  long- 
ish  distance,"  said  he,  slightly  softening  his  tone,  which  the  dim 
form  of  a  policeman  in  the  distance  we  found  occasioned. 

Then  placing  a  quantity  of  silver  in  our  hand,  and  extending 
it  towards  him,  we  remarked,  keeping  one  eye  on  the  functionary 
in  blue  and  the  other  on  the  money — "  Take  your  fare.  You 
know  pretty  nearly  what  it  ought  to  be,  so  help  yourself."  And 
glancing  aside  to  ascertain  the  relative  position  of  the  policeman 
with  himself,  who  by  this  time  was  close  to  his  elbow,  Cabby 
drew  himself  up,  and  with  a  contorted  smirk  of  features  dog- 
gedly picked  out  two  bright  shillings,  flicked  his  whip  again, 
and  uttering  something  touching  a  u  shabby  do,"  in  a  snap- 
pish half-suppressed  tone,  sneaked  to  his  perch  and  turned 
the  head  of  his  "  steed"  cityward  grunting  anathemas  all  the 
while. 

"  Ha !  ha !  ha !"  fairly  roared  Jonathan,  flouncing  his 
umbrella  in  the  air,  and  dancing  about  the  pavement ;  "  I'm 
powerful  glad  you  gave  that  feller  as  good  as  he  sent.  If  I'd 
been  alone  he'd  a  argu'd  me  out  of  six  shilliu's  juist  as  sure  as 
aiggs." 


CHAPTER  II. 

Jonathan's  adventure  at  regent's-park. 

As  if  good  fortune  had  anticipated  our  wishes,  we  found  a 
cheerful  fire  crackling,  with  its  merry  torches  of  grotesque  flame ; 
and  ere  many  moments  had  sped,  our  Yankee  friend  and  self 
were  tete-d-tete  before  it.  The  first  "  demonstration"  on  his 
part  was  to  deposit  his  large  bell-crown  hat  immediately  on  top 
of  the  chiffonier,  in  doing  which  he  upset  an  inkstand,  and  its 
long  black  streams  running  playfully  and  innocently  down  upon 
the  carpet,  settled  into  shining  little  pools,  much  to  our  silent 


JONATHAN   HOMEBRED.  45 

horror.  This  act  unconsciously  performed,  he  deposited  his 
feet  on  the  back  of  the  ottoman,  resting  the  major  part  of  his 
body  in  an  elbow-chair.  The  next  "  object  of  interest"  that 
greeted  our  bewildered  sight  was  full  two  yards  of  pigtail 
tobacco,  which  he  slowly  unwound  from  a  cotton-reel,  and  then, 
giving  it  a  gentle  shake,  proceeded  to  wind  it  up  again,  first 
diminishing  its  length  by  three  and  a-half  inches,  the  result  of 
a  single  application  to  his  dentals.  We  observed  him  looking 
wistfully  around  the  apartment  for  something  in  the  vessel  form, 
and  a  spittoon  soon  made  him  comfortable  on  this  score. 

"  I  forgot  to  ask  you,  Mr.  Homebread  :  how  long  have  you 
been  in  England  ?" 

"  Let  me  see,"  replied  he,  hitching  his  odoriferous  trowsers, 
and  gazing  at  a  picture  of  Carlotta  Grisi  as  "  Giselle,"  over 
the  mantel-shelf.  "  By  gravy,  that's  a  smackin'  poorty  gal ! 
who  is  she — some  creeter  of  quality  ?"  and,  arising,  he  spelled 
the  label.  "  Oh,  a  theatre  woman  !  Them  theatre  folks  are 
high  critters,  I'm  told.  I  don't  see  how  on  earth  they  ever 
git  themselves  intew  sich  laces  and  things.  I  should  bust  more 
muzlin,  if  I  wuz  to  dress  up  so,  than  ud  fit  up  a  store."  Then, 
Buddently  remembering  that  we  asked  him  a  question,  he  conti- 
nued, "  Kailly  I  beg  your  pardon — you  wanted  to  know  how 
long  I'd  been  in  England.     Over  three  weeks." 

"  As  long  as  that  V  said  we*  surprised.  "  Oh,  I  thought  you 
had  but  just  arrived.  You  have  been  around  to  see  the  •  lions,' 
I  suppose  ?" 

"  Y-as,  I  calculate  na-ow  I  hev  a  bit.  Saw  'em  the  second 
day  I  got  here,  at  the  wild-beast  show  in  the  Zully-ogical 
Gardens  at  Regent's-park.  Got  a  dreadful  crowd  of  beasts 
thar !" 

It  was  evident  that  Jonathan  was  so  pcrseveringly  and 
unaffectedly  literal  that  we  would  have  to  shape  our  observa- 
tions in  accordance  with  his  conception.  He  pursued  the  same 
subject,  and  we  did  not  care  to  interrupt  him. 

"  I  never  seed    sich    a    lot  of  tigera    and   nelephants    and 


46  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN  HUMOR. 

highekneez  in  all  my  born  days.  I  used  to  think  our  travelling 
caravans  were  '  considerable  vegetables,'  but  they  can't  stand 
up  to  the  ruck  with  this — no  ha-ow  ?  I  got  intew  the  monkey- 
room,  and  thar  I  had  a  dreadful  heap  of  fun  with  a  big  ape  that 
I  fed  with  chesnuts.  You  see,  I  bought  a  penn'orth  afore  I 
went  in  to  feed  the  critters  with,  as  I  like  to  take  notice  of 
dumb  animals.  "Well,  this  ape  and  me  got  tew  bein'  dreadful 
thick,  and  he  kept  stuffin'  his  jaws  so  full  that  they  bulged  out 
till  I  thought  to  Jehu  they'd  bust !  Then  he  made  all  kinds 
of  funny  motions,  and  wanted  more,  so  I  gave  a  boy  that  was 
standin'  near  me  a  half-crown — for  I  hadn't  any  smaller  change, 
tew  go  out  an'  git  me  another  penn'orth  of  cheanuts.  "Well,  ef 
I  waited  ten  minutes,  I  must  hev  waited  tew  hours  for  that 
dratted  boy ;  and  may  I  be  singed  if  I  ever  saw  anything  since 
of  either  boy  or  half-crown  tew  this  minit !  There  was  one 
half-crown  gone  to  nowhere  at  my  expense;  but  as  I  got  so 
kind'le  interested,  somehow  nor  other,  in  that  ape,  1  went  out 
myself  determined  to  give  him  another  good  feed  before  I  left. 
I  went  out  through  the  turn-around  kind  o1  gate,  thiukiu'  the 
man  id  remember  me ;  and  when  I  went  to  go  back  agin,  doged 
if  I  didn't  have  to  pay  another  shillin'. 

"  Well,  back  I  went,  paid  the  shillin',  and  soon  found  my  old 
ape ;  and  if  you'll  bleve  me,  when  he  saw  me  comin',  he  riz 
rite  up  on  his  hind-paws,  and  fairly  lafFed  like  a  human  bein'. 
Of  course  I  'predated  this  attachment ;  and  in  a  few  minutes 
I  found  he  was  so  tame,  he'd  eat  out  of  my  fingers.  Some 
slick-looking  chap,  with  a  glass  on  his  eye,  come  up,  and  said  to 
me,  '  You  better  be  careful  what  you  are  about,  sir,  or  it'll  nip 
your  fingers.'  I  turned  around  and  said,  'I'm  much  obleeged 
to  yeou  all  the  same ;  but  him  and  me  understand  each  other 
better  than  you  think  for.  I  been  feeden'  him  these  tew  hours ; 
and  monkeys  ar'nt  as  ungrateful  as  mankind.'  Then  he  squint- 
ed his  eye  at  another  gawky-looking  chap  in  soldier'  clothes,  with 
whiskers  cut  like  mutton-chops,  and,  askin'  me  if  I'd  sell  my 
hat,  they  both  went  off  laffin  fit  to  kill  themselves.     What  they 


JONATHAN   HOMEBRED.  47 

saw  to  laff  about  me,  I  can't  say,  for  jist  as  if  there  was  any 
harm  in  feedin'  a  poor  innocent  ape. 

"  Well,  as  I  was  a  sayin'  jist  now,  Jacko  (as  I  called  him) 
and  me  got  shockin'  confidental.  I  had  given  him  the  second 
pen'orth  of  chesmits,  and  he  kept  teazin  me  for  more  ;  so  I  got  tew 
stroken'  him  on  the  head  and  feelin'  ov  his  tail.  This  I  did  for 
a  minnit  or  tew,  when  I  saw  him  kind  a'  look  at  me  savagerous, 
and  wink  at  a  baboon  ;  but  I  thought  he  was  jokin'  with  me  ; 
and  jist  as  I  was  reachin'  over  tew  git  a  bit  of  chesnut  which 
had  fallen  in  the  straw,  may  I  go  to  kingdom  come  backwards 
ef  he  didn't  make  a  dig  at  me  and  jerk  me  by  this  mole  (point- 
ing to  his  nose),  and  there  held  me  while  he  pulled  my  hair  with 
the  other. 

"  Jehosophat !  didn't  I  scream  !  I  thought  I  felt  my  noso 
and  face  partin'  company ;  and  as  for  my  hair,  the  cussed  brute 
must  have  taken  enough  to  make  a  mustach !  My  hat  dropped 
off,  and  lookin'  around  I  saw  about  fifty  people  all  a-lamn  at  me 
as  hard  as  they  could,  includin'  that  slick  chap  with  the  glass, 
and  his  lobster-lookin'  friend  with  the  mutton-chop  whiskers. 
If  ever  I  felt  like  the  little  end  of  nothin'  whittled  down  tew 
a  pint,  I  did  then.  I  seized  my  umbrella,  and  shovin'  it 
through  the  bars,  determined  I'd  give  the  ungrateful  varmint 
a  poke  anyhow.  It  jerked,  twisted,  and  then  jumped  from  one 
side  of  the  cage  to  the  other ;  then  it  twisted  its  chain,  and 
squealed  like  a  stuck  pig.  This  roused  up  a  lot  of  little 
monkeys  that  were  huddled  back  in  the  cage  which  I  didn't 
notice;  and,  bouncin'  about,  they  tew  all  joined  in  the  squall. 
Talk  about  the  noise  of  Niagara  falls  on  the  Canada  side,  it's 
perfect  music  to  the  yell  them  darn'd  critters  set  up.  In  five 
minutes'  time  every  monkey  in  the  room — an'  thar  wuz  about 
five  hundred,  counting  quick,  andjudgin' by  the  squeals — set 
up  their  pipes  tew,  and  then  I  thought  the  ceiiin'  would  come 
down.  Jist  as  I  made  a  dig  for  the  big  ape,  I  happened  to  turn 
around  to  see  whether  the  people  were  skeert,  when,  may  I 


48  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

never  agin  see  New  Hampshire,  if  the  brute  didn't  jerk  the 
umbrella  out  of  my  hand  and  pull  it  bang  intew  the  cage !  I 
wish  you'd  a-heard  them  snort  then;  it  wuz  wus  than  the  squeal 
of  the  monkeys.  One  fat  old  woman  with  flounces  had  to  be  sup- 
ported by  the  slick  chap  with  the  glass,  and  I  heard  half-a-dozen 
articles  of  wearin'  apparel  crack  and  snap  of  I  heard  one.  It 
was  death  to  tight  trowscrs. 

"  Well,  as  I  saw  Mr.  Ape  wuz  a-gittin'  the  best  of  the  battle, 
I  thought  I'd  better  beat  a  retreat ;  but  how  to  git  my  umbrella 
I  didn't  know,  and  go  without  it  I  couldn't.  Jist  as  I  wuz 
lookin'  about  me,  a  man — I  s'posc  the  keeper  of  the  cage — come 
up,  and  told  me  I  was  causin'  a  great  hubbub  among  the  ani- 
mals. The  slick  chap  stopped  up  peart-like,  and  said  he'd  told 
me  to  be  kecrful,  and  repeated  that  I  had  caused  an  alarmin' 
sensation  among  the  moi  keys.  I  eyed  him  from  head  to  foot, 
and  his  friend  tew  in  the  red,  and  said  in  as  cuttin'  a  tone  as  I 
could  fetch  up,  '  Ya-as  I  have,  and  among  the  jackasses  tew.' 
This  turned  the  snigger  for  a  short  spell  on  my  sugar-candy 
friends,  and  the  man  having  coaxed  the  ungrateful  old  ape  to 
give  up  the  umbrella — w  rich  it  did  with  a  handful  of  ugly  grins 
— I  put  it  under  my  am  ,  and  tellin'  the  crowd  I'd  hcv  revenge 
out  of  that  brute  ef  it  cost  me  a  lawsuit,  I  went  oif  in  the 
darndest  huff  I  think  I  over  got  intew  about  a  dumb  animal." 

"  Really  that  was  quite  an  adveuture,"  said  we.  Our  friend's 
broad  unctuous  manner  was  irresistibly  droll,  and  we  interrupted 
his  recital  by  frequent  bursts  of  laughter.  The  portion  of  the 
story  relating  to  the  exte  isive  mole  on  his  nose  we  could  readily 
realize,  as  the  excrescence  formed  a  perfect  handle  to  the  dorio 
formation  it  surmounted.  "You'll  never  forget  the  Regent's 
Park,"  remarked  we,  in  ,he  utmost  solicitude  for  the  safety  of 
an  ebony  ornament  cunaingly  wrought,  which  Jonathan  had 
taken  from  the  mantel,  a  id  to  our  horror  was  searching  for  his 
pocket-knife. 

"  This  appears  to  be  all-nation  hard  wood — beats  lignum 


JONATHAN   HOMEBRED.  49 

vitaa  hollow,"  said  he,  bending  his  gaze  curiously  on  it.  In 
another  moment  he  was  practically  illustrating  his  remark  by 
an ;  application  of  the  knife  to  the  ebony,  which  it  stoutly  re- 
sisted. 

"  G-ood  gracious,  Mr.  Homebred  I"  cried  we,  our  fears  mount- 
ing the  shoulders  of  our  politeness ;  "  pray  pardon  me,  but  that 
little  memento — " 

"  I  thought  it  wuz  wood." 

"  It  is ;  and  as  a  keepsake  from  a  valued  friend  I  prize  it 
highly;  otherwise  you  might  try  your  blade  on  it  in  wel- 
come." 

"  Excuse  me  na-ow,  wunt  you ;  but  I  thought  it  was  a  chunk 
of  nigger-lookin'  bark.  It's  keyreous  stuff,  arn't  it  ?  Tarnation 
good  for  toothpicks,  I  reckon." 

A  considerable  weight  was  removed  from  our  apprehension 
when  Jonathan  restored  the  ornament  to  its  proper  place,  and 
again  assuming  the  same  easy  attitude  as  when  we  had  opened 
the  conversation,  he  proceeded  to  recount  another  incident  of 
his  London  experience,  to  which  we  felt  quite  willing  to  listen. 


CHAPTER    III. 

Jonathan's  donkey-ride  on  hamf-stead  heath. 

"Ha!  ha!  ha! 

"  I  allers  laugh  when  I  think  of  it ;  and  if  I  live  tew  be  as 
old  as  Methusalah — and  he  was  so  old,  they  dew  say,  he  couldn't 
recollect  when  he  was  born — I  shall  never  forgit  the  day  I  hap- 
pened to  go  donkey-ridin'  at  Hampstead  Heath.  It's  a  wicked 
thing  to  say,  but  if  I  wuz  in  'piscopalan  mectm',  and  I  should 
i  see  myself  straddlin'  that  dratted  donk,  I  du  bleve  to  Jerico 
I'd  hev  to  snort ! 

"  You  see  when  I  kern  away  from  hum,  thar  wuz  a  good  deal 


50  DASHES   OF    AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

of  bellowin'  and  cryin'  'mong  the  wiinmen-folks  abeout  my 
crossin'  the  sea.  Polly  Peabody — a  half-cousin  to  my  adopted 
uncle's  mother-in-law,  who  lived  at  our  house,  like  tew  broke 
her  heart.  Polly's  got  a  heart  as  soft  as  a  pullet's  egg ;  and 
bein'  a  good  hand  at  doin'  little  things  abeout  house,  I  took  a 
heap  of  notice  of  her,  and  used  tew  buy  her  spools  of  yaller 
cotton  and  blue  ribbuns  every  spell.  As  soon  as  she  got  wind 
of  my  goin',  she  tied  up  her  head  in  a  red-speckled  handker- 
chief, and  went  round  the  farm  makin'  the  tarnalist  noises  pr'aps 
you  ever  heard.  She  said  that  I'd  get  wrecked,  she  know'd  I 
would,  and  cast  away  on  some  des'late  island  tew  be  food  for 
varmints  !  She  dreamt  I  would,  and  Polly  Peabody'-s  dreams 
Avere  looked  up  tu  as  '  monstrous  true  things,'  no  matter  what 
Deacon  Helve  said  tew  the  contrary.  I  told  her — sez  I — '  Poll, 
there's  no  use  of  ycour  snifflin'  abeout  and  makin'  a  walkin' 
mizry  of  yourself.  I'm  goin'  if  it  busts  your  gall — thar !' 
Yeou  see  I  had  to  be  sharp,  beka.se  if  I'd  ever  caved  in  once, 
she'd  never  been  satisfied  till  she'd  druv  the  notion  out  of  my 
head.  Yeou  know  what  women  are  !  When  she  found  that  go 
I  would,  and  could  see  '  trip'  written  on  my  kountenance,  she 
kind  o'  pulled  up  the  Btakes  of  her  sorrow,  an'  reduced  herself 
to  somethin'  of  a  state  of  settlins.  Poor  tiling  !  I  kin  see  her 
ne-ow,  goin'  abeout  the  house  with  her  eyes  as  red  as  geranums, 
and  swelled  up  so  you  could  jest  see  the  shiny  spots  set  in  little 
flesh  hills  of  misery  !  Bime-by  these  went  down,  and  a  day  or 
or  two  before  I  started  she  had  conkered  everything  'cept  a 
cut-glass  bottle  of  smellin'  salts  that  Aaron  Crane  gave  her 
when  she  was  bridesmaid  for  Hester  Mullet.  Thinks  I,  old 
Grief  isn't  a-going  to  hev  a  second  crop ;  so  I  vent'ered  to  ask 
her  tew  take  a  walk  with  me  in  the  corn-field,  and  I'd  tell  her 
somethin'  she'd  p'raps  like  tu  hear.  She  was  all  tip  at  once — 
like  a  milk-weed,  thinkin'  I  might  hev  changed  my  notion  abeout  ■ 
goin'  to  England  ;  and  not  havin'  filosophy  enough  to  keep  the 
feelin'  dark,  her  eyes  got  tew  churnin'  at  once.     *  There,'  said  I, 


JONATHAN   HOMEBRED.  51 

1  there  yeo-u  go  agin  !  Ne-ow,  Polly,  what  in  the  name  of  all 
that's  useful  is  the  good  of  goin'  on  like  this  ?  If  ye-ow  don't 
stop  it,  I  won't  tell  ye-ouwhat  I  wuz  a-goin'  tew.'  You  see  I 
had  to  du  it,  or  she'd  a-headed  me  off !  Women  are  sich  key- 
urious  critters  !  In  five  minutes  her  eyes  were  as  ..dry  as  wheat- 
bins  agin,  and  puttin'  her  arms  round  my  neck,  with  the  feelins  of 
true  lovte  gushing  threw  her  very  fingers,  she  said  she  knew  she 
wuz  a  p-a-owerful  weak  creeter,  but  she  meant  it  all  for  my  good. 
Thar  !  What  could  I  say  ?  for  though  a  man  may  be  as  hard  as 
a  grindstone,  when  sich  talk  as  that  is  put  tew  him,  he  has  to 
crumble  like  old  cheese. 

"  Well,  we  took  a  walk  through  the  corn-field ;  and  I  begun  to 
talk  around  the  subject  sum'mat,  bekase  I  knew  if  I  come  bang 
tew  the  pint  another  shower  of  tears  would  set  in  as  sure  as  thar 
wuz  any  eye-water  left.  At  last  said  I,  in  jist  as  keerless  a  man- 
ner as  I  could  git  together,  havin'  a  passal  of  corn-leaves  in  my 
hand,  which  I  switched  around  abeout  to  keep  the  fles  away,  sez  I 
— '  Na-ow,  Polly,  you  know  I  think  a  pizen  sight  of  yeou,  and  ef 
you'll  name  anything  you  want  in  London,  with  in  reason,  I'll 
fetch  it  tew  you,  ef  its  in  the  power  of  money  tew  git  it." 

"  This  kind  o'  took  her  down,  and  brighten'en  up  like  a  May 
mornin',  every  cloud  rolled  off  of  her  face,  and  I  swar  to  mankind 
ef  she  didn't  jump  up  tew  my  face  and  kiss  me.  {  Jonathan  !'  she 
roared,  •  You're  tew  good  for  this  wicked  world  !' 

"  i  I  know  that,'  sez  I ; c  but  what  can  I  dew  ?'  and  dog  my  cats 
if  she  didn't  kiss  me  agin. 

"  '  Hold  on  !'  sez  I.  <  Polly,  you're  a-goin'  it  a  leetle  tu  strong 
ef  you  are  a  relation,  and  then  she  stopped  short,  and  wanted  to 
know  what  she  should  have. 

"  l  Anything  yon  like,  Polly,'  said  I. 

"  '  Dear  me,  what  shall  I  hcv  ?'  said  she. 

"  '  Jist  whatever  your  fancy  lights  on;'  said  I. 

"  '  Well,  I  wunt  hev  a  bead  reticule,'  said  she,  all  in  a  quiver  of 
gladness.     '  Hetty  Rose  has  got  one,  and  I  don't  want  to  be  like 


52  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

her.  I'd  like  a  Poplin  frock,  but  lawkes  !  you'd  git  some  noisy 
pattern  that  would  set  th  3  naburs  all  tew  talkin'.  I'd  like  a  pair 
of  kid  gloves.     0  !  crieketty  !' 

"  l  Kid  gloves  I  wun:  fetch,'  sed  I.  You  see  I  allers  had  a 
Kind  o'  contempt  for  kid  gloves ;  and  for  a  reason  as  long  as 
from  here  tew  China,  which  I  wunt  stop  to  tell  you.  '  Kid 
gloves  aint  in  reason,  Folly,  its  wicked  to  wear  'em  \  so  chuse 
somethin'  else.' 

"  '  Well,  I  tell  yeou,  then,  what  to  bring  me  ef  you  don't  git 
shipwrecked' — and  here  a  big  tear  peeped  intew  her  eye. 

"  *  Na-ow,  Polly,  don't  make  a — ' 

11  Before  I  could  git  through  she'd  wiped  it  away. 

"  '  Don't  scold  me  ;  but  bring  me  a  red  silk  bonnet  with  an 
ostridgc  feat  Iter,  and  I'll  be  the  happiest  girl  in  Barley  Creek.' 

"  '  It's  a  go,  Polly.  I'll  git  the  brightest  red  in  London,' 
said  I  ;  '  and  the  plume  shall  be  as  white  as  snow.  And  before 
this  time  five  months  you  shall  be  the  envy  of  the  hull  state. 
Thar!* 

"  She  thanked  me  ever  so  much  ;  and  the  first  thing  I  thought 
of  when  I  came  to  Londo  i  was  that  red  bonnet.  I  looked  in  the 
store  windows  wherever  I  went,  and  though  I  saw  a  good  many 
gay  bonnets,  I  couldn't  ,-ee  one  red  enough.  Thinks  I,  all  tew 
myself,  Polly  took  my  leavin'  so  hard,  I'll  go  the  hull  figure,  and 
git  one  that'll  be  so  p-a-o  verful  red  it'll  send  back  a  blush  ontew 
whoever  looks  at  it.  I  looked  and  peaked  abeout,  up  one  street 
and  down  another,  but  I  couldn't  come  across  quite  what  I  want- 
ed ;  so  in  I  goes  tew  a  n  illiner's  store  and  struck  a  bargain  with 
the  lady  to  make  me  one  up  tew  order.  She  asked  me  how  red  I 
wanted  it. 

"  '  Wretched  red,'  said  I. 

"'Red  isn't  in  fashbn,'  said  she.  '  P'r'aps  you'd  better  hev 
pink.' 

"  <  No,'  said  I ;  « pink  won't  do.  I  want  the  fiercest,  blazinest 
red  you  can  skeere  up  in  this  big  teown.' 


JONATHAN   HOMEBRED.  53 

a  Well,  she  said  she'd  make  it  of  watered  vermilion  silk,  or 
something  like  that,  and  we  closed  terms.  The  feather  and  bon- 
net was  tew  cost  thirteen  dollars,  Yankee  currency,  to  which  I 
subscribed,  and  marched  off. 

u  Just  a  week  after  I  called  for  it,  as  I  'greed  tew  do,  and  the  la- 
dy of  the  shop — who  wuz  a  nice  sort  of  body — wanted  tew  put  it  in 
a  bos  and  send  it  tew  the  hotel  for  me.  *  Never  mind,'  said  I ; '  I 
wont  put  you  tew  that  trouble.  Jist  dew  it  up  in  a  paper,  and  I'll 
carry  it  myself.'  She  wrapped  it  up  as  neat  as  a  pin  in  a  copy  of 
the  Times,  and  payin'  her  down  the  '  ready,'  off  I  started  agin  as 
happy  as  a  clam  in  high- water,  bekase  I  knew  how  set-up  Poll 
would  be  when  she  could  once  see  herself  in  the  glass  with  all  that 
red  and  feather  on  her  head. 

a  Somehow  or  the  other,  while  I  was  trapesin'  along  starin' 
about,  I  see'd  a  'bus  go  along  labelled — hampstead,  and  hevin' 
heeard  a  heap  abeout  Hampstead  Heath,  I  thought  I'd  take  a  ride 
eout  and  see  it  jist  for  a  flyer.  I  stopped  Mr.  Buss,  and  got  the 
man  that  stands  on  the  pee-rch  behind  tew  hold  on  to  the  bonnet 
while  I  dumb  up.  Talk  abeout  mountin'  Lombardy  poplars  for 
hawks'  nests  while  sich  things  as  'busses  exist !  There's  nathin* 
in  natur'  like  'busses  and  fire-escapes. 

"  l  Fire  ahead,  naow,  driver,'  said  I,  arter  I  had  squatted, 
with  one  leg  hangin'  over  the  vehikle  and  got  my  bonnet  safe  on 
my  arm. 

"  '  Fire  away  !'  but  he  didn't  take  any  more  notice  of  me  than 
if  I  hadn't  spoke.  I  afterwards  found  out  these  fellows  stand  on 
their  dignity,  unless  you  call  'em  <  coachmen' ;  but  before  I'd 
ha'  violated  my  republican  principle  of  speakin' the  treutl|,  I'd 
seen  him  forty  miles  t'other  side  of  the  North  Polo  chawin' 
ice-cikles. 

"  After  stoppin'  about  twenty  times,  I  guess,  speakin'  on  a 
mild  average — we  got  eout  tew  Hampstead  Hill  and  I  walked  up 
tew  the  heath.  Crab-apple  blossoms  and  salad  ile  !  didn't  I  look 
around  and  enjoy  the  sights.     It  was  a  splendid  day;  the  sun 


54  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

was  shinin'  like  a  rory-bore-ealis ;  and,  ef  I  wanted  tew  be  high- 
flown,  I  might  say  I  never  saw  natur'  put  on  a  more  smilin'  face 
in  the  hull  course  of  my  life.  I  walked  up  and  down  the  path- 
way ;  jerked  off  my  hat ;  took  a  big  old  chaw  o'  tabacco,  and  laid 
back  like  a  bird.  There  wuz  London  on  one  side,  with  its  mob 
of  chemneys  and  steeples  risin'  themselves  up  like  scare-crows 
from  a  field  of  buckwheat ;  on  another  side  was  a  smooth  view  of 
the  most  garden-lookin'  ground  I  ever  laid  my  two  eyes  on,  with 
the  rows  of  hedges  and  hawthorn  crossing  each  other  as  rigalar  as 
a  copj'-book.  On  t'other  side  ran  the  heath,  with  the  furze-tops, 
as  far  as  the  eye  could  afford  tew  extend  its  knowledge ;  while 
away  in  the  north  rose  Harrow-on-the-hill,  seeniin'  to  overlook  the 
scene  with  as  much  dignity  as  a  militia  major  on  trainin'  day. 
Awful  fine  view,  naow,  or  the  subscriber  wouldn't  say  so  ! 

u  While  I  was  sittin'  on  the  fence,  thiukin'  what  a  great  coun- 
try this  is,  and  whether  oats  had  riz  in  New  Hampshire — and, 
in  fact,  a  little  bit  of  everything — a  solid  lookin'  young  man, 
with  a  stick  in  his  hand,  come  up  to  me  and  said,  '  Hev  a  don- 
key ride,  sir?     Capital  flesh,  sir.' 

"  Says  I,  '  No ;  git  eout  with  yeou  and  yeour  donkeys  tew. 
When  I  condescend  to  throw  my  legs  over  boss  meat,  I  gine- 
rally  prefer  somethin'  higher  from  the  greound  than  a  donkey.' 

"  '  Better  hev  a  ride,  sir,'  says  he ;  •  wholesome,  sir,  to  have  a 
ride  a  day  like  this.' 

"  I  thought  he  was  quizzing1  of  me  when  he  spoke  of  whole- 
some, bekaase  I  flatter  myself  that,  taken  as  a  whole,  I  enjoy 
more  good  health  than  any  three  men  yeou  can  start. 

"  Says  I,  '  Git  eout  will  yeou,  or  I'll  appear  tew  you  pugna- 
ciously.'    But  butter  me  if  the  slink  would  move. 

"  '  Do  hev  a  ride,  sir ;  it's  only  sixpence  for  an  hour.' 

"  ''Go  along,  I  tell  yeou.' 

"'You'd  better.' 

"  '  Vam-ose !' 

"  '  Fine  hanninial,  sir — jist  suited  tew  yeour  figure,  sir.  Do 
take  a  ride,  sir.' 


JONATHAN   HOMEBRED.  55 

"  I  couldn't  stand  this  any  longer,  so,  junipin'  down  off  the 
fence,  I  shook  the  kink  out  of  my  neck,  curled  my  eyes  for  him 
and  said — '  Naow  look  here,  stranger,  didn't  I  tell  yeou  I  didn't 
want  to  ride  ?' 

"  '  Yes ;  but  the  hannimal's  ha  hangel.' 

"'Very  well  then,  ef  you  don't  git  away  in  short  order,  I'll 
make  so  free  with  yeour  kountenance  that  yeour  own  animals 
wont  know  yeou.' 

"  '  Now  then  ?'  shreked  he. 

"  '  Ya-as,  it  is  now  then,'  said  I.  '  I  wuz  a-setten  on  the 
fence  as  harmless  as  a  caterpiller,  and  yeou  must  pester  me 
abeout  yeour  dratted  donkeys.     I  don't  want  'em — tkar  /' 

u  <■  But,  look  a-here,  master ;  your  ha  stranger  'ere,  and  it's  a 
fine  of  two  shillinks,  payable  tew  the  Dook  of  Hampstead,  if 
you  don't  encourage  the  donkeys.  I  tell  you  for  your  hown 
good.' 

"  Yeou  see  I  hadn't  thought  of  anything  abeout  Dooks  or  sich 
folks,  and,  not  knowin'  the  laws  of  the  ken'try,  I  though  I 
might  get  intew  some  sort  of  a  reow  ef  I  didn't  ride.     Says  I, 

"  '  Is  that  the  fact  ?' 

"  \  Yes,  master,  hon  my  honour,'  said  he,  touching  his  hat. 

"  '  Excuse  me,  but  yeou  needn't  call  me  master;  there's  no 
slaves  in  New  Hampshire,  nor  hue  nether,  and  I  don't  like  it,' 
says  I. 

" '  What  shall  I  call  you,  sir  ?'  said  he. 

"  Well,  as  he'd  been  se  sa-sy  abeout  his  cursed  brutes,  I  didn't 
care  abeout  givin'  him  pertickler  satisfaction,  and  said, 

"  '  My  name  might  be  Jeemes  Breown.' 

" l  0,  now  then,  Mr.  Brown,  hall  hive  got  to  say  his,  hif  the 
Dook  of  Hampstead  should  'appen  to  come  along,  'e'd  fine  me 
for  not  'avin'  you  hon  the  donkey  afore  this.' 

"  Well,  as  I  thought  the  chap  wuz  tcllin'  the  trcuth,  I  went 
over  tew  one  side  of  the  heath,  where  there  wuz  a  long  string  of 
the  velvety-nosed  sarpints  tied  tew  a  rail,  and  castin'  my  eye 


56  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

along  at  'em,  I  had  abeout  ten  of  the  tenders  tackle  me,  each  one 
of  'em  leadin'  an  animal. 

"  '  Look  a-here  !'  I  shouted  ;  f  I  can't  ride  but  one. 

"  '  This  is  the  von  for  your  money,'  said  another  feller,  hittin' 
the  critter  over  the  back  with  an  ash  stick  to  make  him  prance. 
'  Wonderful  breed — '  Finger-j'int,'  out  of  l  Kid-glove  ;'  bred  in 
a  clover  lot,  and  vonce  howned  by  the  Dook  of  Dilberry.  AVo-e, 
my  man !     See  how  frisky  'e  his.' 

"  Before  I  could  get  a  word  out  edgeways,  another  lantern- 
jawed,  snaky-looking  feller  said,  openin'  the  brute's  mouth,  and 
showin'  its  teeth, 

"  f  This  is  the  one  your  'eart  bleeds  for.  Ilonly  live  pence  a 
hour — long  time.' 

"  Another  one  hollered — > 

"  '  Here,  guv'ner,  is  the  vinner  of  the  last  Darby.  Sticks  'is 
toes  in  the  hearth  as  if  he  vas  too  proud  to  tread  it,' 

"Still  another  said,  leadin'  an  old,  stubby,  chuckle-headed, 
shaggy  specimen — so  lanky  and  gray  it  looked  as  if  it'd  fall  to 
pieces  if  it  wuz  straddled — 

u  l  Don't  take  any  of  'em,  but  choose  the  '  Pride  of  the  Harem' 
as  I  'olds  in  my  ands.  Show  the  gentleman  'ow  you  can  throw 
hup  your  legs.  See  that!  "\V-o-a — there!  I  can't  'old  her, 
she's  so  firery.  This  is  '  Ladybird,'  the  Queen's  fav'rite.  "\V-o-a  V 

"  There  was  something  so  queer  about  the  '  Pride  of  the 
Harem,'  for  she  had  on  blinkers  and  head-harness  stuck  full  of 
ribands,  and  her  tail  switched  with  sieh  a  melancholy  motion, 
that  I  kim  tew  the  conclusion  that  if  the  law  compelled  me  to 
ride  I'd  go  my  '  Harem'  before  all  the  tothers. 

u  l  How  often  do  you  curry  this  critter  ?'  I  asked. 

"  !  Vonce  a  year,  guv'ner.  She's  in  delicate  health,  and  can't 
stand  it,"  answered  the  owner.  '  Lov'ly  hanimal  though  for 
hall  that — came  intew  the  vorld  vith  a  cor'net,  and  '11  be  buried 
with  honors.' 

"  l  Shall  I  'old  your  parcel  vile  you  mount  ?'  said  a  shabby- 
looking  young  man,  with  one  of  his  eyes  in  mourning. 


JONATHAN   HOMEBRED.  57 

u  I  gave  him  the  bonnet,  with  any  quantity  of  charges  tew  be 
keerful,  and  standin'  with  my  legs  stretched,  I  told  the  keeper 
tew  lead  the  donkey  right  under  me,  and  in  less  than  you  could 
say  John  Robinson  backward,  I  wuz  mounted,  with  my  feet 
touchin'  the  ground. 

"  Give  me  the  bonnet,'  said  I; 

"  He  handed  it. 

"  '  Git  along  neow.  Gee  up  !'  But  the  critter  was  fixed  as  a 
knot-hole. 

"  '  Here,  guv'ner,  here's  a  stick,'  said  the  man. 

"  I  took  it  and  plied  it  over  her  back  till  the  hollow  sound  went 
boomin'  over  the  heath,  but  chaw  me  if  '  Harem'  would  budgo 
an  inch. 

"  The  rival  donkey-tenders  stood  areound  me  laffin  fit  to  kill 
themselves,  flipin'  the  beasts  with  their  whips  to  make  them 
fierce-like ;  but  all  they'd  do  was  tew  kick  and  splunge  till  every- 
thing areound  seemed  in  motion. 

" '  I'll  lay  a  bob  to  a  half-quartern  she  spills  the  gen'lman,'  said 
one  behind  me,  just  loud  enough  for  me  tew  hear  him. 

"  '  Vot  a  rum  'un  !     She's  full  of  fleas  !'  said  another. 

"  '  Fleas !  I  Vleve  you.  "Wuss  than  that — she's  got  the  Prince 
of  Vales'  fevor,  and  that's  sudden  death  to  whomever  mounts 
'er,'  remarked  another,  in  an  off-handish  tone. 

"  But  you  see  by  this  time  I'd  begun  to  git  my  eyes  open,  and 
were  sum'mut  posted  on  these  tales,  and  turnin'  round  an'  telling 
'em  it  was  all  no  good,  for  I'd  picked  eout  my  brute  for  the  day, 
they  lead  the  donkeys  back  tow  the  rail,  and  so  left  me  in  my 
Iglory. 

"  '  Neow,'  said  I  tew  myself, '  I'll  bo  transmogrified  intew  a 
scorched  monkey  if  I  don't  make  this  critter  go.  Git  up ! 
.Ge  long  thar  !'  But  you  might  as  well  a  coaxed  an  Izalite  to 
eat  pork-lunch.  It  wuz  no  go ;  an'  for  once  old  stubbornness 
had  brought  me  tew  a  stand-still. 

"  <  Gi'e  me  tupence  I'll  lead  her,  master,'  said  a  ragged  wiry- 


58  DASHES   OF    AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

lookin'  boy,  touching  Lis  cap,  and  seizing  i  Harem'   by  the" 
rein. 

"  I  'felt  in  my  trowser's  pocket,  and  found  that  I  hadn't  but 
three  ha'pence  in  change,  and  throwin'  that  at  the  'cuss  he  pulled 
her  head  nearly  out  o'  jint,  and  after  pullin'  abeout — well,  I  guess 
a  quarter  of  an  hour — she  had  moved  two  foot  and  a-half,  good 
measure. 

"  '  Go  behind  and  push  her,'  I  suggested. 

"  He  obeyed  me,  and  in  another  quarter  of  an  hour  we  had  made 
two  more  foot  and  a-half.  All  the  time  I  was  in  a  miz'rable 
state  for  fear  Poll's  bonnet  would  git  soiled,  and  I  do  b'leve  tew, 
Peru,  if  it  hadn't  been  for  that,  I'd  lost  my  temper,  and  jist 
borne  down  hard  on  the  beast,  and  squashed  her  tew  a  jelly. 

"  A  half  an-hour  managed  to  crawl  by,  and  thar  wuz  I,  sittin' 
like  payshence  on  a  what  ye  call  'em — only  I  didn't  smile.  The 
blood  of  New  Hampshire  begun  tew  bile  in  my  body,  and  brand- 
ishin'  the  club  abeout  in  the  air,  I  let  it  drop  on  l  Harem'  till 
she  grunted  agin.  All  at  once  she  changed  her  mind,  and  start- 
ed off. 

"  l  Let  her  go,'  hollered  I  to  one  of  the  boys  who  tried  to  head 
her  off.     W-h-e-w ! 

"  I  drew  up  my  legs,  and  squeezed  her  areound  the  pod ;  and  if 
any  body  had  a-told  me  that  that  runty  pinted  little  beast  had  so 
much  strength,  I  would  have  been  apt  to  have  suspected  'em  of 
telling  what  wuzn't  'zackly  trew.  Run  !  By  the  great  United 
States — an'  that's  considerable — if  it  wuzn't  enormous — ?icxt 
tew  a  telegraph  message  on  the  wires,  I  do  b'leve. 

u  I  allers  gave  myself  some  credit  for  bein'  a  strong  man  till  that 
moment.  I  pulled  and  jerked — she  kicked  an'  crashed — on-on- 
on  ;  and  while  she  wuz  goin'  as  if  old  John  Satan  had  hold  of 
her  tail,  to  make  matters  wus,  the  dratted  paper  came  unpinned, 
and  Poll's  bonnet  wur  fiyin'  and  streamin'  like  a  flag  on  'lection  f 
day.  Where  tew  put  it  I  handn't  the  meanest  idea ;  an'  as  I 
couldn't  well  du  better,  I  clapped  it  on  my  head,  an'  then  pre- 


JONATHAN   HOMEBRED.  59 

pared  to  fetch  my  l  Harem'  tew  a  stand-still.  She  seemed  to 
have  been  granted  supernatural  strength,  for  jist  as  I  had  laid 
back,  until  my  head  wuz  on  a  desperate  line  with  her  haunches, 
an'  had  konquered  sufficient  tew  get  breath,  may  I  be  made 
book-keeper  tew  a  street-sweeping  machine,  if  the  ostridge  fea- 
ther did'nt  blow  slick  over  my  eyes,  and  the  next  minnit  I  wuz 
pitched  head-foremost  intew  a  clump  of  sharp  furze-bushes. 

"  Je-ru-ssi-le??i  /  Did'nt  I  feel  cheap  !  You  might  ha'  pur- 
chased me  for  any  moderate  sum  this  side  of  a  crooked  copper. 
To  be  thrown  by  a  little  stumpy  appleheaded  critter  like  that 
were  enough  tew  make  your  eyelashes  frizzle  with  indignation. 
I  gathered  myself  up,  brushed  away  the  superfluous  things  that 
had  attached  themselves  tew  me,  turned  the  linty  old  hussy 
around  head  foremost,  an'  welcomin'  her  back  with  a  bang  as 
loud  as  a  politician's  promise,  I  fetched  her  sich  a  kick  as  she 
won't  git  agin  soon,  unless  New- Hampshire  pegged  boots  go  out 
that  way.  She  threw  up  her  heels,  piped  a  dreadful  bray,  some- 
thin'  like  the  noise  of  a  confused  earthquake,  an'  made  for 
home  as  if  the  "  warnin'  voice"  of  forty  hay -mows  had  called 
her. 

"  And  Poll's  bonnet,  I  forgot  to  tell  yeou — I  suppose  you're 
wonderin'  in  your  mind  whether  I  saved  it.  I  kin  tell  you  I 
did'nt  dew  no  sich  thing. 

'.  "  Mashed  !  Well,  I  rather  think  it  wuz.  Poor  Polly,  she'll 
have  tew  drink  garlic  tea  tew  support  her  spirits  when  I  tell  her 
of  it.  It  looked  as  if  an  elephant  lead  trod  on  it — it  was  as 
flat  as  your  hand  ! 

"  Catch  me  ridin'  donkeys  again  on  Hampstead  Heath,  and  tell 

me  of  it,  dew !     Dwindled  specimens  of  hoss-flesh  have  gone 

down  forty  per  cent,  in  my  esteem,  and  nothin'  short  of  a  geld- 

.  ing  or  bay  mare  a  bushel  of  hands  high  can  ever  induce  me  to 

make  a  letter  A  with  my  legs  agin  on  this  side  of  the  salt  sea.'' 


60  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 


SNOW  SCENES. 


"  Like  sweet  bellg."— Hamlet. 


Jingle!  jingle!  jingle! — a  flood  of  delicious  melody  is  pour- 
ed out  from  the  tiukling  of  ten  thousand  bells. 

But  stop,  we  must  offer  a  few  words  by  way  of  explanation, 
as  we  are  not  writing  for  American  eyes,  who  understand  our 
caption,  and  call  up  a  myriad  of  happy  associations  of  fun  and 
love-making  at  its  mere  suggestiveness.  England  may  boast  of 
her  roast  beef  and  plum-pudding  luxuries,  her  coaches,  'busses, 
"  Hansoms,1'  her  trips  to  Boulogne-sur-Mer,  her  sea-view  at 
Dover,  t£te-d-tetes&i  Cheltenham,  and  what  not ;  but  the  "mother 
country" — as  Brother  Jonathan  always  calls  her,  like  a  dutiful 
lad  as  he  is — is  most  grievously  in  the  dark  as  to  one  enjoyment, 
that  in  our  mind  is  the  ultimatum  of  excursioning — sailing 
through  the  air  not  excepted — we  mean  the  sleigh  rides  of 
America. 

A  snow  scene  is  singularly  beautiful.  Every  object — house- 
tops, trees,  shrubs,  fences — in  short,  whatever  goes  to  make  up 
the  landscape,  is  enrobed  in  most  exquisite  white,  and  of  such 
purity  and  brightness,  that  it  glares  the  eye  to  look  at  it  steadily. 
Then  when  the  sun  shines,  the  universal  gleam  reminds  one  of 
a  fairy  grotto  of  enchanted  isles  actually  turned  out  of  doors  to 
delight  and  dazzle  mortals. 

Now  comes  a  frost,  and  the  snow  is  compact  and  brittle  ;  then 
a  slight  rain  settles  it,  and  again  a  frost,  and  it  is  hard,  solid, 
crisp  and  unyielding,  just  in  glorious  order  for  sleighing.  Now, 
boys  get  out  your  "teams,"  and  girls,  wrap  yourselves  up  in 


SNOW    SCENES.  61 

furs,  boas  and  tippets ;  we  are  going  to  have  a  ride.  The  moon 
slimes  clear  to-night,  the  stars  are  twinkling,  and  the  air  is 
steady  and  bracing. 

Our  first  care  is  to  have  the  horses  rough-shod,  that  they 
may  speed  like  the  wind,  without  fear  of  falling.     Then  over- 
haul the  sleighs,  of  which  there  are  various  patterns  :    here  is 
one  in  the  shape  of  a  swan,  capable  of  holding  ten  couple ;  an- 
other fashioned  like  an  antelope,  with  gilded  runners ;  another, 
something  like  the  car  of  Juggernaut,  only  not  quite  so  enig- 
matical ;  still  another  in  the  shape  of  the  American  eagle,  with 
the  gray  pinions  all  complete,  and  spread  to  the  breezes  as  if 
preparatory  to  a  flight,  to  perch  again  perchance  on  the  temple 
of  Freedom.     We  will  take  none  of  these — they  do  not  hold 
sufficient ;    but  here  is  one,  it  will  contain  thirty  persons,  and 
now  we  can,  have  a  jolly  merry-making  to  a  certainty.     It  is 
striped  blue,  with  a  red  ground,  and  is  no  particular  device,  be- 
yond that  of  a  very  comfortable  band-box  on  an  exaggerated 
scale.     Now  we  will  have  four  fiery  grays  attached,  each  one 
having  a  collar  of  silver  bells  around  his  neck,  which,  when  they 
are  agitated,  give  out  such  a  sound  as  make  the  heart  leap  and 
the  pulses  dance  the  Cellarius.     The  driver — a  huge  fellow, 
ivell  practised  in  his  art — mounts  the  box,  wrapped  in  a  bear- 
skin coat,  which  only  leaves  his  eyes  and  the  smallest  possible 
:ip  of  a  very  red  nose  visible.     He  gives  the  whip  a  single 
lourish — off  we  go — nags  snorting,  bells  ringing,  snow  flying, 
noon  beaming,  boys  screaming,  driver  shouting — all  life,  fun, 
ind  vivacity  !     Now  we  halt  and  get  in  the  girls  and  the  i:  fel- 
ows  "  (in  America,  on  a  winter  night,  the  young  men  are  al- 
vays  called  fellows,  which  term  melts,  i.  e.,  ends  with  the  snow), 
vho  are  as  brisk  as  a  hive  of  bees.     The  lasses  are  attired 
varmly,  with  muffs  and  furs  worked  up  in  an  undescribable 
pmber  of  ways ;  while  the  "  fellows  "  are  snug  under  the  weight 
if  a  museum  of  cuts  and  patterns  in  the  way  of  Mammoth  pale- 
ots  and  overcoats. 
Such  chattering  and  struggling  to  get  in  front !   such  merry 


62  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

peals  of  laughter,  as  the  girls  are  absolutely  stowed  in  !  u  Set 
thick,"  is  the  order  of  the  night,  as  there  must  not  be  the  hun- 
dredth part  of  an  inch  of  vacancy.  And  now  the  inquiry  is 
made  "  All  right?"  "  Yes,"  screams  the  roguish  voices  of  the 
girls.  "  All  right  I"  echo  the  men ;  "  Go  along  there  !"  shrieks 
the  driver,  in  a  damp  guttural,  and  away  we  all  go. 

We  will  suppose  we  are  in  Philadelphia,  and  near  that  famous 
city  of  right  angles  is  a  town  called  Frankfort — not  on  the 
Maine,  but  on  the  river  Delaware.  We  will  follow  the  sleigh- 
ers,  and  see  that  they  make  a  proper  night  of  it.  Well,  off  we 
go  to  Frankfort,  dash  through  toll-gates,  and  when  we  leave  the 
city — which  looks,  on  the  hill,  as  if  it  had  a  white  veil  thrown 
over  it,  to  hide  it  from  the  sweet  silvery  light  of  such  a  plump, 
good-natured  moon  as  never  before  shone — a  song  is  proposed. 
"  What  shall  it  be  ?"  inquires  one.  "  A  life  on  the  ocean 
wave  !"  suggests  a  sea  captain,  whose  vessel  being  weather- 
bound in  port,  happens  to  make  one  of  the  company. 

"  0,  sink  the  shop,  captain !"  says  a  waggish  voice,  "  the 
ocean  wave  is  all  frozen  up.  Let's  have  the  sleigher's  song — 
'tis  more  apropos" 

"  Aye,  aye,  the  sleigher's  song  !"  shout  a  number  of  voices. 
Instantly  there  is  a  harmonious  or  inharmonious  mingling  of 
contralto,  bass,  soprano,  and  tenor.     The  words  run — 

"  Hurrah  for  the  snow  !  the  bright,  bright  enow  ! 
The  bells  are  ringing  merrily  ; 
Onward  we  glide  right  cheerily — 

Hurrah  !  Hurrah  !  Hurrah 

"  The  moon  is  bright,  and  all  is  gladness, 
We  banish  sorrow,  care,  and  sadness ; 
Our  hearts  are  light,  aod  away  we  go, 
To  skim  o'er  the  breast  of  the  star-lit  snow ! 
Hurrah  I  Hurrah !  Hurrah  !" 

By  this  time  we  are  in  Frankfort,  and  seeking  the  "  Jolly 
Post,"  a  famous  hostelry,  or  road-side  inn.  We  pull  up,  and 
enter  the  "  yard,"  where  we  all  descend,  and  hurry  to  a  recep- 
tion room,  where  the  girls  hang  their  furs  on  the  backs  of  the 
chairs,  and  the  "  fellows  "  stamp  the  snow  off  their  feet.     . 


SNOW    SCENES.  63 

u  Landlord,  mull  cider,  Lot  as  an  oven,  all  round  I" 

The  mull  cider  is  banded  about  with  plates  of  miniature  rout- 
cakes  ;  and  after  the  girls  are  refreshed  with  several  introduc- 
tions of  this  sort,  with  perhaps  the  addition  of  several  "  light 
goes  "  of  hot  whisky  punch,  or  mint  juleps  made  warm,  we  all 
ascend  to  the  front  room,  which  is  brilliantly  illuminated  with 
several  regiments  of  awkward,  solemn-looking  wax  candles,  and 
then  behold  an  orchestra  of  fiddlers  at  the  back  ready  for  a 
scrape. 

Ah  !  we  are  to  have  a  quadrille. 

We  take  our  places,  and  soon  the  violins  are  performing  a 
perfect  hurricane  of  allegrettos  ;  everybody  is  ready  for  action ; 
and  then  such  a  quadrille  is  gone  through  as  would  put  your 
drawing-room  or  Almack  soirees  to  the  blush.  The  spirit  of 
the  affair  is  plunged  into  with  a  zest  that  is  visible  in  every 
lineament  of  the  countenance ;  every  curl  quivers  ;  and  such  a 
rustling  of  silks  and  satins  would  inspire  Diogenes,  and  make 
him  kick  his  tub  into  the  middle  of  next  week.  Then  after, 
as  choice  dictates,  and  the  fiddlers  are  tractable,  comes  a  country 
dance,  and  a  regular  American  "  hoe  down,"  which  sits  every 
chord  in  the  frame  vibrating  in  unison  with  the  melody  ;  and 
now  the  girls  feel  tired,  and  down  we  go  once  more  to  the  re- 
ception-chamber, repeat  the  mull  cider,  the  "  fellows  "  seeking 
the  bar-room  to  enjoy  a  whiff  of  segar,  and  soon  once  more  we 
are  on  the  road. 

Crack  goes  the  whip,  and  away  prance  the  steeds  over  the 
mantled  earth,  as  if  it  were  a  pleasure  to  them  to  bound  to  the 
music  of  the  bells.  Aye,  the  very  horses  seem  by  some  mys- 
terious instinct  to  comprehend  the  fun,  and  need  no  urging  to 
speed  to  the  next  goal  of  enjoyment. 

Another  ten  miles  is  soon  passed,  and  once  more  wo  are  un- 
packed and  refreshed  in  something  the  same  manner — draughts, 
rout-cakes,  dancing,  et  cetera^  where  a  similar  party  are  met, 
and  a  grand  union  taking  place,  we  "  trip  it  on  the  light  fantas- 


64  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

tic"  with  redoubled  vigour.  There  is  no  end  of  the  flirtations, 
whispering,  opening  of  motto-candies,  snowballing,  and  putting 
ice  down  your  neighbour's  back,  causing  the  victim  to  shrug 
with  the  frigidity  of  the  favour.  Then  two  waggish  youngsters 
are  seen  plying  the  driver  with  hot-toddy,  and  whispering  con- 
fidentially in  his  ear.  He  shakes  his  head  with  an  air  of 
distrust — another  hot  draught  disappears,  still  he  shakes  his 
head  ;  presto  !  a  bright  silver  dollar  is  thrust  into  his  hand,  and 
he  says  "all  right"  with  so  much  earnestness,  that  the  wags 
smile  knowingly  in  concert,  and  hurry  off  to  look  after  the 
sleighers. 

"  Turn  the  horses'  heads  homewards,"  is  the  order. 

"  What  o'clock  is  it  ?"  asks  the  nautical  gentleman. 

"  Past  two,"  is  the  reply ;  a  tall,  slim,  young  man  in  glasses 
holding  up  his  chronometer  to  catch  a  moon-ray  in  order  to 
decipher  the  face  of  his  dial. 

Out  come  the  ladies,  their  faces  much  more  crimsoned,  and 
their  eyes  several  degrees  brighter  than  when  they  embarked. 
One  by  one  they  are  handed  in  by  the  two  young  gentlemen, 
who  were  in  close  confab  with  the  driver,  some  of  them  de- 
claring "  that  it  is  not  a  bit  cold,"  others  struck  with  the 
excessive  number  of  the  stars,  and  not  a  few  wishing  it  was  not 
yet  so  far  gone  in  the  morning.  Several  vow,  by  their  fans, 
that  they  could  "dance  all  night  till  broad  day-light;"  and 
perhaps  there  are  one  or  two  oldish  creatures  "praying  good- 
ness"— as  the  sex  will  do  when  they  begin  to  border  on  the 
thirties — that  "  they  may  be  home  before  day-light  shows  itself, 
as  it  looks  so  bad  to  be  seen  coming  home  in  the  morning." 

Then  comes  the  order  of  entertainments  homeivard  bound, 

Mr.  Green  tells  them  a  story  of  a  sleigh-ride  he  had  in  St. 
Petersburgh  (Mr.  Green  is  a  great  traveller,  having  been  in  his 
time,  although  quite  a  young  man,  to  England,  France,  Ger- 
many, Austria,  Russia,  and  Italy),  which  elicits  the  deepest 
wonder  among  the  girls,  who  look  upon  Mr.  Green  as  a  second 


SXOW   SCENES.  65 

Humboldt,  or  any  other  great  adventurer  who  has  visited 
regions  "  far  and  wide,"  and  opened  the  eyes  of  the  world  with 
an  octavo  of  travels  in  three  volumes. 

This  through,  Mr.  Brown,  or  Black,  or  Gray,  sings  "  Oft  in 
the  Stilly  Night,"  with  as  light  tremor  in  his  voice,  which  he 
protests  is  occasioned  by  the  cold,  at  which  all  of  the  ladies 
laugh  and  charmingly  assert  not  to  believe  it.  Then  somebody, 
who  wishes  to  surprise  the  company,  suddenly  fishes  up  from 
the  body  of  the  sleigh  a  guitar,  and  accompanies  himself  in  a 
little  barcarole  or  serenade,  which  it  is  impossible  to  hear  for 
the  jingle  of  the  bells — not  only  of  their  own  but  other  sleighs 
passing.  This,  soon  pronounced  de  trap,  is  accordingly  buried 
in  the  bottom  of  the  vehicle  among  the  straw,  with  all  the  hon- 
ours of  sundry  sly  kicks  and  cuffs,  which  cause  the  strings  to 
snap  in  fine  style. 

The  whole  length  of  the  road  is  skirted  with  immense  mounds 
of  snow,  caused  by  that  feathery  element  drifting,  as  it  fre- 
quently does  in  America,  giving  the  appearance  of  travelling  a 
road  actually  cut  through  a  series  of  white  mountains.  The 
old  chorus  "  Hurrah  !  hurrah  !  hurrah  !  for  the  snow  !"  is  again 
resumed,  and  just  as  the  happy  excursionists  are  straining  their 
lungs  to  drown  the  eternal  chime  of  the  bells  clinking  in  all 
directions,  one  of  the  aforementioned  wags  touches  the  driver 
significantly  on  the  toe — he  perfectly  comprehends — in  a  mo- 
ment the  nags  are  unmanageable — they  plunge  and  clash,  the 
girls  scream,  the  "  fellows,"  with  a  great  show  of  bravery,  laugh ; 
the  sleigh  is  out  of  the  beaten  track,  and  close  to  a  huge  mound 
of  soft  snow ;  another  shriek  goes  up — the  very  stars  seem  to 
twinkle  mischievously,  and  the  next  moment  the  sleigh  is  upset, 
and  the  girls  are  rolling  over  and  over  into  the  snow,  consider- 
ably more  frightened  than  hurt. 

Here  is  a  pretty  how  d'ye  do — such  a  scene  as  we  should  like 
to  have  some  skilful  comic  limner  embody.  The  "  fellows"  as- 
sist the  ladies  to  rise,  some  of  them  looking  desperate  at  the 


66  DASHES   OF    AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

driver,  who  forthwith  is  christened"  a  naughty,  naughty  man.'} 
Others  do  not  know  now,  as  they  are  aware  they  are  not  hurt, 
whether  to  treat  the  matter  seriously  or  as  a  good  joke.  Howe- 
ver, thinking  it  the  wisest  part  to  appear  pleased,  they  soon 
laugh  it  off,  and  declare  that  "  it  ivas  capital  fun,  if  the  snow 
had  not  been  so  cold."  Others,  more  courageous,  and  greater 
fun-lovers,  would  give  the  world  to  be  served  so  again,  if  they 
were  not  afraid  of  spoiling  their  clothes,  and  the  men  unani- 
mously pronounce  it  the  climax  capped,  with  the  exception  of 
the  two  young  gentlemen  more  directly  interested  in  the  "  spill," 
who,  in  order  to  avoid  suspicion,  rate  the  driver  soundly  for  his 
awkward  clumsiness,  and  threaten  never  to  hire  him  again,  at 
the  same  time  nudging  him,  and  bidding  him  in  a  whisper,  u  not 
to  let  on  for  the  world,  but  say  that  the  horses  shied  at  something 
black  in  the  road.  ' 

Once  more  we  are  all  ensconced  without  accident,  unless  it 
be  that  one  of  the  ladies  has  lost  perhaps  a  link  out  of  her  ear- 
drop, or  snapped  her  silken  watch-cord — we  did  hear  something, 
a  familiar  sound,  just  as  the  sleigh  was  toppling,  and  we  sup- 
posed it  ivas  a  kiss ;  but  let  that  pass,  there  is  no  harm  done, 
and  we  are  now  nearly  home. 

We  next  inquire,  in  order,  the  residences  of  each  of  the  ladies, 
that  we  may  drop  them  at  their  respective  doors,  and  see  them 
safe  home.  One  by  one,  or  twain  by  twain,  as  the  case  may  be, 
as  noiselessly  as  possible,  so  as  not  to  disturb  the  old  folks,  the 
belles  are  handed  out  and  wished  u  good-night,"  until  the  sleigh 
is  emptied  of  the  greater  part  of  its  burden;  and  then  the 
men,  who  it  is  presumed  are  chiefly  unmarried,  form  what  is 
called  a  "  bachelor  party,"  and  dash  away  entirely  on  their  own 
hook  to  the  outskirts  of  the  city,  where  after  a  mild  banquet  of 
oysters  roasted,  and  "  waffles" — an  indescribable  winter-cake, 
being  a  cross  between  a  bun  and  a  sallylunn — cigars  are  produc- 
ed and  enjoyed  without  reserve,  the  whole  party  returning  as  it 
were  in  a  whiff  to  their  starting  point,  there  to  part  for  the 


SNOW    SCENES.  67 

night,  all,  we  hope,  delighted  with  their  sleigh-ride.  As  spots 
of  gray  must  by  this  time  be  dappling  the  drowsy  east,  it  is 
fair  to  be  presumed  that  all  the  sleighers  have  retired  to  rest ; 
if  they  are  not,  they  should  be;  so  with  orders  to  "put  up"  the 
sleigh  and  take  the  bells  off  the  horses,  and  see  them  in  their 
house,  we  will  also  bid  the  reader  "  good-night,"  or,  more  pro- 
perly, "  good-morning,"  with  the  assurance  that  we  have  en- 
deavoured to  give  him,  to  the  hurried  best  of  our  abilities,  a 
faithful  account  of  an  American  sleigh-ride. 


68  DASHES   OF    AMERICAN   HUMOR. 


LOOKING  UP  LODGINGS. 


We  bad  strolled  on  cither  side  of  Piccadilly,  as  far  as  Apsley 
House  (out  of  which  the  Iron  Duke  was  passing,  with  a  totter- 
ing step),  found  our  way  through  May  Fair,  and  scanned  at  least 
a  dozen  capriciously-christened  terraces  in  Bayswater,  and  yet 
could  not  see  a  solitary  card  witli  those  suggestive  words, 
"  Lodgings  for  Single  Gentlemen."  Of  cour.-o  wo  did  not  hope 
to  find  idle  apartments  at  the  residence  of  the  Duke,  Cavendish 
House,  nor  any  of  those  great  walled-in  mansions  that  show  their 
protective  fronts  along  Piccadilly;  but  it  was  not  absurd  to 
suppose  that  in  some  of  the  windings  through  which  we  passed 
at  least  one  fair  housekeeper  would  have  felt  disposed  to  "  share 
her  cottage"  with  a  stranger  of  moderate  income. 

"We  got  back  into  Regent-street,  stopped  in  front  of  a  picture- 
shop  window,  and  gazed  listlessly  at  a  crayon  sketch  of  the  head 
of  a  Madonna  until  we  fancied  we  could  see  love-sparks  dart 
from  the  dove-like  eyes  of  the  print,  when  we  rallied  and  brought 
our  mind  to  bear  on  the  facts  of  our  mission. 

Our  heart,  with  crimson  confidence,  asked  our  head  a  ques- 
tion— 

"  What  do  you  wish  ?" 

u  Lodgings,"  promptly  returned  our  head. 

"  Then  look  for  them,  and  don't  stand  idling  your  time  and 
endanger  me  with  yonder  picture." 

After  this,  pulsation  became  natural,  and  our  scattered  senses 
were  garnered  and  ready  to  obey  the  will. 

u  Lodgings  !     Yes,  that's  the  question.     Where  shall  we  go  ? 


LOOKING   UP    LODGINGS.  69 

Regent's  Park  is  an  airy  locality,  and  easy  of  access.  Kentish 
Town  is  too  far  off;  and,  besides,  one  must  pass  through  that 
terrible  wilderness  of  cheap  shops,  Tottenham  Court-road. 
Hoxton  is  a  nuisance;  and  Pimlico  as  yet  unsettled.  Ken- 
nington  Oval  is  retired,  but  a  bridge  must  be  crossed;  and  to 
see  St.  Paul's  twice  a  day,  scowling  upon  its  concomitant  brick 
and  mortar,  is  dreadful.  Over  the  Thames  will  not  answer,  so 
on  to  Regent's  Park." 

A  cab  soon  set  us  down  at  the  "  York  and  Albany,"  and  we 
prepared  to  lounge  through  the  Park  Villages.  We  were  in  a 
world  of  villas,  places,  crescents,  and  cottages,  and,  better  still, 
many  neat  printed  labels  informed  the  passer-by  that  the  inmates 
had  no  objection  to  divide  the  house,  if  early  application  were 
made. 

"  Rosebud  Cottage" — a  pretty  name  certainly,  but  the  apart- 
ments were  unfurnished,  and  that  would  not  do.  The  next  card 
was  idly  suspended  in  "  Orient  Villa."  It  was  what  enthusi- 
astic young  ladies  would  call  a  "  love  of  a  place,"  with  the 
greenest  of  window-blinds,  and  a  plate  on  the  door  as  bright  as 
the  koh-i-noor.  We  knocked,  and  a  smart  Abigail  made  her 
appearance. 

"  I  see  you  have  apartments."  And  we  affected  to  look  indif- 
ferent. 

We  were  ushered  into  the  parlour,  and  in  less  than  ten  min* 
utes  by  a  remarkable  slow  watch,  a  young  lady,  with  every  in- 
dication of  a  hasty  toilet — for  the  powder  was  awkwardly  and 
effectively  distributed  on  her  countenance — glided  into  the 
room. 

We  did  a  bow.     She  dropped  a  curtsey. 

"  You  have  called  to  see  the  apartments,  I  presume,"  she 
remarked.  ':  They  consist  of  a  first-floor  drawing-room  and 
|  three  bed-rooms.  Perhaps  you  will  walk  up  and  see  them? 
They're  not  in  good  order  to-day,  fur  the  family  we  had — a  Cap- 
tain Epplelet  of  the  c  Blues' — only  left  yesterday." 


70  DASHES  OF  AMERICAN  HUMOR. 

It  is  a  remarkable  fact  that  all  landladies'  have  just  parted 
with  their  lodgers,  who,  by  some  miraculous  coincideuce,  seem 
to  have  been  either  military  men  or  young  noblemen  of  broken 
fortunes. 

"  I'm  sure  the  drawing-room  will  please  you,  and  two  of  the 
bed-rooms  overlook  the  Park  most  delightfully.  Captain 
Epplelet  used  to  say  the  breeze  was  charming.  He  was  very 
sorry  to  leave  us.  In  fact,  I  thought  his  eldest  daughter, 
Matilda,  would  have  broken  her  heart  the  day  they  moved?'1 

We  saw  she  was  forgetting  herself,  and,  not  caring  to  remind 
her  that  the  family  had  only  left  the  day  before,  merely  remarked, 
"  Poor  thing  !"  and  declined  instituting  any  examination,  as  we 
had  only  desired  a  drawing-room,  with  sleeping  and  dressing 
apartments  contiguous. 

lt  We  can't  let  the  rooms  separate,  I'm  sorry  to  say,"  she  con- 
tinued, "  for  more  than  one  family  in  a  house  gets  to  be  a  trou- 
ble. There  was  a  stout  gentleman  here  this  morning  from 
America,  a  stock-broker,  I  think,  somewhere  at  the  West-end, 
who  was  very  much  pleased  with  them ;  and  if  it  had'nt  been 
for  the  rent,  I  think  he  would  have  taken  possession  at  once." 

"  What  was  the  price  ?" 

"  Nine  guineas  per  week,  and  dirt-cheap  at  that. 

Our  conversation,  after  this  last  stroke,  was  vividly  brief, 
and  we  were  once  more  on  the  trottoir.  Nine  guineas,  indeed  ! 
was  the  woman  out  of  her  senses  ?  One  could  have  blue  plush 
in  a  fashionable  square  at  half  the  sum.  We  walked  on,  and 
the  next  pasteboard  annunciation  swung  carelessly  from  a  fuch- 
sia-branch in  a  bay-window.  Rat-tat-tat-tat !  went  the  knocker, 
for  there  was  no  bell.  An  "  elderly  young  lady,"  of  the  spinster 
breed — with  a  high  forehead  and  a  shower  of  short,  crisp,  cork- 
screw curls  raining  around  her  occiput — gave  vent  to  a  saluta- 
tion, and  we  entered  the  hall. 

"  Apartments,  sir  ?"  she  asked, 

"  Yes — "  and  we  paused.     Was  it  Miss  or  Madam  ?     The 


LOOKING   UP    LODGINGS.  71 

chances  were  in  favour  of  the  former,  so  we  gave  her  the  benefit 
of  the  doubt,  and  swallowed  the  signification. 

"  Walk  up-stairs,  sir." 

"We  were  conducted  into  a  drawing-room,  carelessly  appointed 
with  what  seemed  to  be  long-used  furniture.  A  cottage  piano, 
centre  table,  lounge,  Canterbury  chifFonnier,  and  chairs,  com- 
prised the  set-out. 

li  You  must  excuse  the  room  ;  it's  all  upside  down" — the  old 
story —  "  for  we're  just  making  some  important  alterations  and 
additions  to  the  house." 

"  Pray  make  no  apologies,"  said  we,  looking  at  a  plaster-of- 
Paris  Cicero  on  "the  mantel-shelf,  with  his  nose  broken.  "What 
apartments  have  you  ?" 

"  This  drawing-room  and  a  bed-chamber.  We've  had  the 
Mooney  family  living  with  us  the  past  three  years,  and  they 
would  be  with  us  still  but  for  young  Mr.  Mooney ;  the  son's 
getting  an  idea  into  his  head  that  he  must  go  to  Australia. 
You've  doubtless  heard  of  the  Mooneys  of  Bond-street  ?  The 
family  we  had  with  us  were  near  relatives." 

The  conclusory  portion  of  this  remark  was  embroidered  with 
what  old  lexicographer  Johnson  would  have  growlingly  called  a 
"  damnable  double  knock,"  that  caused  our  companion  to  shud- 
der for  a  moment  like  a  water-lily  in  a  tempest. 

"  Dear  me  !  what  can  that  be  ?"  remarked  she,  with  a  long- 
waistcd,  maidenly  sigh.  "  Who  dares  to  knock  in  that  coster- 
monger  manner  ?  It  is  shocking,  I  declare."  And  her  little 
corkscrew  curls  twisted  themselves  a  degree  tighter  in  the  in- 
tensity of  her  emotion. 

We  heard  the  rich,  pristine  voice  of  an  Irish  servant,  below, 
say  to  the  applicant,  whoever  she  was — 

"  Will  you  be  plazed  to  walk  up.  missus  ?''  And  before  an 
expert  market-gardener's  wife  could  have  shelled  three  early-pea 
pods  there  appeared  over  the  balustrades,  like  the  moon  rising 
behind  a  cloud,  the  ample  crimson  face  of  a  massive  elderly 


72  DASHES    OF   AMERICAN   HU.MOR. 

woman,  dressed  semi-genteel,  with  a  prodigious  array  of  flounces, 
and  three  young  children — one  very  lank,  and  two  extremely 
chubby — clinging  nervously  to  her  frock-skirts.  In  another 
moment  she  entered  the  room,  and  the  children  seemed  to  dis- 
appear in  the  folds  of  her  flounces,  as  gnomes  do  through  "flats  " 
in  fairy  pieces. 

The  two  ladies  interchanged  address,  and  we  placidly  backed 
into  the  music-stool,  and  managed — by  twiddling  the  fringe, 
noticing  the  position  of  the  key  of  D  in  the  scale,  and  confusedly 
exerting  ourselves  to  translate  the  title  of  a  Polish  ballad  that 
ended  in  "ski,"  and  which  was  adorned  with  a  picture  of  a 
heavy  snow-storm,  that  looked  like  an  extravagant  shower  of 
plumes  doing  an  agitated  minuet — to  cool  and  gratify  a  red-hot 
landscape — by  these  gentle  means  to  occupy  the  moments. 

"  I've  been  recommended  here  by  a  friend  in  Eaton-square  to 
look  after  apartments/'  said  the  new-comer,  puffing  very  much, 
and  by  an  instinctive  waggle  shaking  the  children  out  of  their 
hiding-place.  "  Do  excuse  me,  I  must  sit  down  ;  I've  walked 
all  the  way  from  the  '  York  and  Albany,'  and  am  almost 
done  up." 

We  were  the  happy  medium  of  introducing  a  chair  to  the 
lady,  and  she  ensconced. 

"  Come  here,  Sacchy,  this  moment/'  exclaimed  the  lady ; 
"  why  will  you  annoy  your  grandmamma  when  she's  so  warm ;" 
and  the  next  sound  was  the  unexpected  crash  of  poor  Cicero's 
head  against  the  fire  grate.  Sacchy,  as  she  was  called,  was  the 
eldest  of  the  three  "  hopefuls,"  and  in  passing  over  to  the  chair, 
she  had  stopped  to  put  her  little  fat  finger  on  the  broken  nose 
of  the  inanimate  orator,  which  resulted  in  the  fall  aforesaid. 

"  Good  gracious  !;'  screamed  the  lady  of  the  house  ;  "  my 
Cicero  broken  !  It  was  a  parting  present  from  the  Mooney's, 
and  I  valued  it  beyond  all  price." 

"  How  very  unfortunate  !"  soothingly  observed  the  grand- 
mamma of  the  young  delinquent.     "  Did  anybody  ever  hear  of 


LOOKING  UP   LODGINGS.  73 

such  a  calamity !  0  you  naughty,  naughty  Sacchy — how  can 
you  be  for  ever  in  mischief?"  and  she  strained  her  eyes  to  such 
a  terrible  size,  and  looked  so  meaningly  at  the  child,  as  to  cause 
the  little  thing  to  burst  into  a  loud  shrill  cry,  in  which  the 
other  two  joined. 

We  felt  a  waggish  desire  to  touch  the  piano  lightly,  for  the 
purpose  of  making  an  accompaniment  dehcatto  to  the  squall, 
but  the  position  of  matters  would  not  warrant  such  a  vagary  ; 
and  we  could  only  contrast  the  quality  of  the  sobs,  and  count 
the  tears  as  they  crept  sorrowfully  along  the  little  pug  noses  of 
the  juveniles.  The  lank  one,  who  was  a  boy  just  out  of  pina- 
fores, resembled  a  lollypop  in  long  hose  more  than  a  Christian, 
and  if  there  could  have  been  estimated  any  difference  in  the 
strength  of  organs  we  should  have  awarded  the  superiority  to 
the  young  masculine — it  was  a  sort  of  bass  cry,  with  staccato 
spasms  of  a  most  peremptory  character. 

Order  at  length  restored,  the  conversation  was  resumed. 

"In  regard  to  the  apartments,  Miss" — and  the  old  lady  re- 
ferred to  a  card — u  Miss  Nibbles,  that's  the  name,  I  believe  ?'* 

The  other  inclined  her  head,  and  adjusted  one  of  the  short 
curls  thereupon  simultaneously. 

li  Who  did  you  require  apartments  for  ?  This  gentleman 
here  has  called  on  the  same  errand,"  remarked  Miss  Nibbles. 

"  For  myself  and  these  dear  things,"  said  the  old  lady  point- 
ing to  the  little  ones,  who  were  now  sniffling  at  a  great  rate, 
with  very  red  eyes.  "  They  are  grandchildren  left  to  my  care. 
Their  mother,  my  poor  daughter,  died  only  six  months  after 
Julius,  there,  was  born  ;  and  it  is  now  my  duty  to  look  after 
and  protect  them." 

"  I'm  very  sorry  to  tell  you,"  said  Miss  Nibbles,  in  a  soft 
note-paper  sort  of  tone,  "  that  we  don't  take  children ;  we  find 
them  so  very  troublesome  at  this  season  of  the  year." 

"Don't  take  children!"  and  she  repeated  the  exclamation 
with  a  hauteur  most  lofty.     "  And  pray,  Miss,  what  earthly 


74  DASHES    OF    AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

objection  can  any  reasonable  being  urge  against  three  pretty 
little  dears  like  these,  I  should  like  to  know  ?" — and  once 
on  her  feet,  the  children,  with  the  promptitude  of  un- 
fledged birdlings,  half  disappeared  among  the  flounces  as 
before. 

"  I've  no  objections  against  those  particular  children,  but  all 
children,  and  young  children  especially,"  reasoned  Miss  Nibbles, 
mildly  :  "  you  must  know  yourself,  Madame,  how  inconvenient 
they  are — young  people  ivill  be  young  people,  the  world  over," 
and  she  cast  a  mournful  look  at  the  fragments  of  Cicero  among 
the  silver  hearth  shavings,  which  the  old  lady  did  not  fail  to 
observe. 

"  I  suppose  you  allude  to  the  broken-nosed  man  that  was  on 
the  mantel,"  exclaimed  she  with  a  sharpness  of  manner,  and 
producing  a  huge  fan,  which  she  swung  to  and  fro  with  remark- 
able energy;  "  that  was  pure  accident ;  but  don't  suppose  for  a 
momenl  I  want  to  forget  it — oh  no  !  I've  a  pair  of  KossutKfl 
and  a  bust  of  Scott  at  home,  that  you  can  take  your  pick  of,  if 
it  comes  to  that." 

"  You  wrong  me,  Madame,"  remarked  Miss  Nibbles  calmly, 
u  I  was  not  thinking  of  poor  dear  Cicero,  although  it  was  a  gift 
from  the  Mooneys.  As  for  the  Scott,  and  the  pair  of  other 
gentlemen  you  mentioned.  I've  no  wish  for  them,"  and  witli  a 
serenity  of  face  actually  prodigious  under  the  circumstances,  she 
rang  the  bell. 

"  Tut,  tut !  Miss,  I  don't  go  about  breaking  other  people's 
furniture  without  paying  for  it" — and,  if  it  were  possible,  the 
crimson  of  her  physiognomy  grew  even  deeper  than  before.  "  I 
suppose  you  take  me  for  a  mere  speculating  apartment-hunter, 
bu*t  I'll  prove  to  you  I'm  no  such  thing.  There,  Miss  Nib- 
bl-es,  there,"  and  she  grandly  threw  upon  the  table  a  half-crown, 
as  she  sujyposed,  but  which  turned  out  to  be,  in  her  confusion,  a 
smooth  penny.  The  awkward  discovery  of  this  mistake  some- 
what unstarched  her  dignity,  and  she  thumbed  her  long  crochet 


LOOKING    UP    LODGINGS.  75 

purse  with  a  nervousness  quite  exquisite  to  the  short  curls  on 
the  opposition  side. 

"  Well,  that's  very  odd,  I  declare,"  said  she,  turning  the 
purse  inside  out,  and  beating  it  against  the  fan.  "  Could  I 
have  given  a  half-crown  to  that  rascally  conductor  ?  Come 
here,  Julius, — where  are  you  ?" — and  she  drew  him  out  from  the 
balzorine — "  Didn't  I  give  you  a  penny  in  the  'bus  ?"" 

"  No,  grandmamma,  it  was  an  'alf-crown,"  squeaked  the  child. 

"  Good  gracious,  Julius,  why  didn't  you  instantly  hand  it 
back  to  your  dear  grandmama  ? — naughty  boy,  let  me  have  it 
this  moment." 

The  youngster,  instead  of  obeying,  sculkea  back  to  his  mus- 
lin retreat,  and  a  ventriloquial  sniffle  was  all  that  could  be 
traced  of  him. 

"  Come,  Julius,  dear,  let  me  have  it,  like  a  good  child ; 
and  you  shall  go  and  see  the  otters  dive  at  Regent's  Park — 
that's  a  good  boy,"  and  by  an  ingenious  personal  wabble  she 
again  brought  him  to  light,  in  a  posture  as  pitiful  as  could  be 
well  divined. 

"  Come,  Julius,  love,  hand  it  to  grandymamma." 

"  N-o  !"  blubbered  the  boy. 

"  Pleasy,  like  a  dear,"  and  turning  round  to  Miss  Nibbles, 
she  remarked,  "  He's  very  delicate,  and  must  be  humoured." 

"  I  want  ;t  for  brandy-bails,  please  grandmamma,"  responded 
he,  clutching  the  coin  in  his  tiny  pocket,  and  staring  at  the  pic- 
torial snow-storm  on  the  pianoforte.      "  0 — o — o — B — o — o  !" 

A  series  of  coaxing  was  found  of  no  avail,  and  in  the  end 
the  lad  was  prostrated  on  the  floor,  and  while  his  sisters  held 
his  hands,  the  old  lady  wrested  the  coin  from  his  tiny  fingers. 
Kicks,  struggles,  sobs,  despoiled  frills,  and  groans,  were  blend- 
ed in  one  exhilarating i^ot-pouri.  Miss  Nibbles  seemed  shocked 
half  out  of  her  senses  at  such  a  scene  in  her  drawing-room,  and 
the  scattered  ballads  in  the  Canterbury  seemed  to  sing  their 
own  tunes  in  the  melee. 


76  DASHES    OF   AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

As  we  remarked,  the  untimely  discovery  of  the  half-crown 
had  thrown  the  large  lady  off  her  stilts,  for  the  time  being  ;  but 
the  dignity  found  its  way  back  with  the  silver,  and  casting  a 
withering  frown  at  Miss  Nibbles,  which  caused  the  young  lady 
to  start  back  a  pace  with  fear,  she  threw  the  coin  upon  the  pia- 
no, exclaiming,  "  There,  Miss,  I  trust  you  Fee  I've  paid,  and 
well  too,  for  the  broken  man  on  your  mantel ;"  and  uttering  a 
sort  of  domestic  cluck,  the  children  surrounded  her — the  mas- 
culine distilling  tears  a  la  Knarcsborough.  She  flounced  out 
of  the  apartment,  down  the  stairs,  through  tho  hall,  and  giving 
the  door  a  barbarous  slam,  soon  disappeared  among  the  copso 
of  the  park. 

"Most  singular  female  that,"  remarked  Miss  Nibbles,  when 
the  color  got  back  to  her  cheeks.  u  Without  scandal,  I  might 
term  her  a  perfect  monster." 

u  Motherly,  but  proud,"  we  remarked. 

"Proud!  I  like  to  see  proper  pride,  but  this  is  out  of  all 
character;"  and  instinctively,  as  it  were,  MissNibbles  serenely 
took  possession  of  the  half-crown,  and  again  gazed  upon  tho 
fragmentary  Cicero  with  a  sigh. 

"We  found  time  was  on  the  wing,  and  a  peep  at  our  watch 
brought  Miss  Nibbles  back  to  the  notice  of  our  call. 

"  Really,  sir,  I  owe  you  ten  thousand  apologies  for  keeping 
you  m  this  manner ;  that  horrid  creature  drove  the  apartments 
out  of  my  mind.  Perhaps  you  will  step  in  and  sec  the  bed- 
room." 

We  did  so.  The  chamber  was  srell  furnished  with  number- 
less specimens  of  crochet  impossibilities  on  the  chairs,  and  va- 
rious pictures  of  still  life  about  the  walls.  The  bedstead, 
wide  and  comfortable,  stood  soberly  on  its  posts,  and  pleased  us. 
It  looked  like  a  bed  that  had  arrived  at  the  years  of  calm 
discretion. 

We  re-entered  the  drawing-room.  Miss  Nibbles  playfully 
touched  Gr.  as  she  passed  the  piano,  and  gave  the  red  curtains  a 


LOOKING    UP    LODGINGS.  77 

poke  that  induced  a  little  shower  of  dust  to  descend  from  the 
gilt  cornices,  and  alight  on  her  row  of  curls.     Foolish  maiden ! 

a  You  must  excuse  the  drawing-room,"  urged  she,  smilingly  ; 
"  it's  all  in  the  rumples ;  but  when  we  get  in  the  new  sofas,  and 
the  curtains  to  match  the  chairs,  I  think  we  shall  be  all  right 
again." 

a  Curtains  to  match  the  chairs  ?"  repeated  we,  interrogatively  ; 
"  do  you  intend  going  to  that  expense  ?" 

11  Oh,  yes,  sir;  we've  ordered  them  of  Drape,  of  Regent 
street ;  and  we'll  have  the  piano  tuned — by-the-way,  sir,  do  you 
play?" 

"  Umph  !  slightly.  Can  manage  to  thump  a  strumming  ac- 
companiment to  \  Young  Agnes,'  and  one  of  Balfe's  ballads." 

"  Ah  !  you  gentlemen  can  always  do  better  than  you  say." 

"  And  some  say  better  than  they  do  :  that's  my  case." 

"  0,  sir !"  and  she  seemed  to  be  tracing  a  figure  on  her  apron 
that  resembled  at  a  glance  one  of  the  ruined  columns  of  Nett- 
ley  Abbey. 

li  Now  as  to  price — that's  the  grand  point." 

She  named  the  sum. 

"  And  you'll  have  the  piano  tuned,  and  curtains  to  match  the 
chairs  ?  This  last  seems  highly  important — in  fact,  I  may  say, 
that  would  alone  induce  me  to  take  the  apartments." 

"  I  find* you  are  particular,  sir." 

"  Not  at  all ;  but  when  curtains  match  the  chairs,  it  isprima 
facie  evidence  that  one  will  be  comfortable." 

"  La  !  Sir,  what  a  funny  thing  !"  said  Miss  Nibbles,  and  her 
face  wore  the  confused  aspect  that  it  will  when  the  '  spirit  wi- 
thin' is  more  or  less  puzzled  as  to  whether  it  ought  to  be  gay  or 
serious. 

We  continued. 

"  0,  yes,  there  is  no  question  in  my  mind  as  to  that.  "We  all 
have  our  crotchets.  Montaigne  loved  tom-cats;  Maximilian 
would  not  sleep  on  a  couch  unless  stuffed  with  roses" — 


78  DASHES   OF    AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

"  Is  it  possible !  Did  any  one  ever  hear  of  such  extrava- 
gance !"  interrupted  she. 

"  Henry  the  Eighth  had  his  queer  notions — those  I  wont 
mention ;  Marc  Antony  actually  had  a  pet  tiger ;  and  Izaak 
Walton  admired  grubwornis..  Is  it  singular,  therefore,  that  I 
should  prefer  to  have  the  curtains  of  my  drawing-room  match 
the  chairs  ?  I  ask  you,  Miss  "Nibbles,  on  reflection,  is  it  1V 
and  for  once  in  our  life  we  looked  a  mixture  of  mclo-dramatic 
seriousness  and  intention. 

Poor  Miss  Nibbles !  She  seemed  bewildered ;  her  eyes  rolled 
and  wandered  from  one  object  to  another,  and  she  at  length  ex- 
claimed— 

"  It  is  not,  sir ;  it  is  all  very  natural  !" 

"  I'm  glad  you  admit  it,"  continued  we.  It  shows  taste, 
judgment,  tact,  discretion  !  Consider  the  apartments  mine  from 
Monday  next  (it  was  then  Thursday),  and  by  all  means  let  the 
curtains  match  the  chairs." 

In  less  than  a  week  we  directed  our  letters  from  "  Butterfly 
Villa,  Park  Village  East,  Regent's  Park,"  and  our  hostess  had 
prepared  every  appointment  entirely  to  our  taste. 


79 


NEVER  SLEEP  WITH  YOUR  PANTALOONS 
UNDER  YOUR  PILLOW. 


Thanksgiving  day  in  New  England  is  the  signal  for  pies  and 
piety ;  that  is  to  say,  church  in  the  morning  and  a  glorious  din- 
ner in  the  afternoon.  Some  of  the  old  stock  go  so  far  as  not 
only  to  set  it  aside  as  a  grand  occasion  of  prayer  and  provender, 
but  also  make  presents  and  bestow  trifles  by  way  of  remem- 
brancers. These  interchanges  of  home-sentiment  work  vast 
benefits  in  the  end,  and  go  a  great  way  towards  cementing  the 
bonds  of  friendship  and  kindred.  Every  member  of  the  family 
on  this  day  is  expected  to  meet  over  drink  and  platter,  and  the 
[  union  is  always  attended  with  beneficial  results.  The  day  after 
j  thanksgiving  finds  New  England  minus  of  many  tens  of  thou- 
sands of  turkies  and  whole  oceans  of  apple  sauce ;  but  the  uni- 
versal demolition  is  in  a  glorious  cause ;  so,  as  Sylvester  Gra- 
ham says,  the  country  is  not  a  bit  the  worse  off  for  the  special 
consumption. 

Old  Aunt  Eliza  Lovejoy,  as  her  friends  delight  to  call  her — 
for  she  is  such  a  sweet,  kind-hearted,  domestic  little  bunch  of  a 
body — one  or  two  thanksgivings  ago  presented  her  husband, 
Uncle  Abel  Lovejoy,  with  a  pair  of  drab  trowsers  as  her  "  season 
gift,"  with  the  special  charge  that,  he  was  to  take  a  great  deal 
of  pains  with  them — only  wear  them  on  holidays ;  and,  in  short, 
prize  them  as  highly  as  if  they  were  some  valuable  old  heir-loom 
which  could  never  be  replaced.  Aunt  Eliza  belonged  to  the 
Society  of  Friends,  and,  though  a  strict  meeting-goer,  she  was 
once  in  a  while  as  fond  of  a  little  pleasantry  as  most  people, 


80  DASHES    OF   AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

and  did  not  permit  conventional  stiffness  to  run  away  with  her 
spirits. 

"Neow,  Abell,"  the  old  woman  said,  looking  as  neat  as  a  new 
pin  in  her  old-fashioned  plum-silk  gown,  with  a  three-cornered 
white  kerchief  thrown  like  a  snowflake  over  her  shoulders,  "  I'll 
give  thee  nuthin'  this  year  but  these  drabs,  an'  may  they  dew 
thee  much  sarvice." 

"  Thank  you,  Aunt  'Liza,"  responded  Abel.  lie,  like  every- 
body else,  called  his  wife  aunt,  "  Thee  is  very  kind,  an'  I'll 
treasure  them  as  I  would  '  th' richest' robe  King  Harry  ever 
threw  'round  his  back,''  and  the  old  man  imprinted  an  honest 
kiss  on  the  good-humoured,  genial  cheek  of  his  dutiful  wife. 

The  next  sabbath  Uncle  Abel  assumed  his  ".drabs,'1  just  to 
see  how  they  would  look.  lie  was  not  actuated  by  a  worldly 
feeling  of  ostentation,  but  rather  a  pleasant  desire  to  gratify  the 
wishes  of  his  wife.  He  did  not  give  his  mind  to  mode  in  any 
degree,  but  if  he  was  comfortable  his  highest  wish  was  attained. 
Habited  in  a  long  blue  coat  with  full  skirts,  rough  broad-brim- 
med beaver,  creamed-coloored  vest,  with  buttons  to  match,  and 
his  new  trowsers,  he  walked  with  Aunt  Eliza,  who  was  all  prim- 
Mid  plum  color,  except  her  bonnet,  which  was  several .- 1 
smarter,  and  a  happier,  more  contented,  unassuming  couple  per- 
haps the  sun  never  shone  on.  The  town-folks  all  saw  that  the 
worthy  man  had  on  something  new.  Some  said  it  was  his  hat, 
others  his  vest,  and  the  more  observant  declared  it  was  the 
trowsers.  The  gossips  even  discussed  the  matter  under  the  very 
wig  of  the  parson,  and  one  idle  young  minx  whispered  confiden- 
tially to  a  pew  full  of  girls  that  the  recent  article  was  his  neck- 
cloth, "  for  she  had  heard  Aunt  'Liza  say  it  cost  fifty  cents  in 
IBrattleboro'."  0  the  artful  young  puss,  to  breed  such  a  fib 
against  her  father's  respected  neighbour.  Uncle  Abel  was  of 
just  such  an  innocent  turn  of  mind  that  if  he  had  ever  dreamed 
his  new  garment  would  have  given  rise  to  even  so  much  as  a 
quibble  he  would  never  have  let  it  be  seen  for  the  world.     As  it 


NEVER  SLEEP  WITH  YOUR  PANTALOONS  UNDER  YOUR.  PILLOW.    81 

was,  however,  he  unconsciously  caused  an  incredible  amount  of 
gossip,  which,  like  the  Fountain  of  Naair,  exhausted  itself  as 
soon  as  a  new  subject  came  up. 

An  important  business  engagement  called  Uncle  Abel  to  the 
city  of  Boston,  which,  although  it  bears  the  reputation  of  being 
a  quiet,  order-loving,  and  high-toned  city,  like  all  dominions  of 
bricks  and  mortar,  contains  a  large  alloy  of  sharpness  and  its 
grand-parent  rascality. 

Consequent  upon  the  departure  of  the  worthy  man  no  small 
measure  of  bustle  and  concern  was  displayed  by  his  wife.  Her 
little  blue  eyes  actually  swam  in  a  river  of  good  nature,  and 
more  expressions  of  honest  goodness  fell  from  her  tongue  while 
she  rattled  about  the  house  than  ordinary  folks  would  have 
spoken  in  a  life-time.  The  old  man  had  been  deputed  by  several 
friends  to  pay  a  large  sum  of  money  to  creditors  in  the  city  of 
Boston,  and  as  he  wished  patriotically  to  once  more  see  the  city 
where  the  monument  of  Bunker  Hill  so  beautifully  rears  its 
white  and  solemn  head,  he  undertook  the  journey  with  a  glow  of 
pleasure. 

"  Heow  long  du  yeou  think  thee'll  be  ?"  remarked  Aunt  'Liza, 
with  her  arms  in  the  dough-trough,  and  the  queer  little  necks  of 
incipient  pastry  clinging  to  ber  red  elbows.  "  xsot  long,  I  dew 
treust  and  pray." 

"  Let  me  see,"  calculated  Abel,  u  it'll  take  me  five  hours  tew 
git  tu  Springfield,  one  more  to  Deerfield,  and  three  from  thar  to 
Bostmg;  that's  altogether  nine  hours'  hard  ridin'.  Well  Til  du 
the  bis'ncss  thar  in  abeout — in  all,  I  guess,  abeout  twenty -four 
more,  an'  then  nine  hours'  back,  countin'  a  little  fur  stoppin'  an' 
one  thing  an*  another.  So  I  reckon,  takin'  things  intew  con- 
sideration, I'll  bo  abeout  tew  days,  cf  nothin'  happens  an'  I  hev 
luck." 

'•  You'll  hev  to  sleep  in  that  wicked  place  all  night,  wunt  thee 
Abell  ?" 

"  Ya-as,  I  reckon  I  will." 


82  DASHES   OF    AMERICAN    HUMOR.' 

"  Oli,  massy  saikes,  Bosting  is  a  dreedful  woe-begone  placo 
'cordin'  to  all  I  hear.  Elder  Peagreeu  wus  sayin'  only  yistcr- 
day,  when  thee'd  gone  tu  mill,  that  he  read  in  the  Grape-root 
Journal  and  Milkweed  Gazette  that  a  man  had  been  'sasinated 
in  broad  daylight  on  Bostin'  Common,  jist  bekaase  he  had  a 
silver  watch  in  his  pock-it.  What  is  this  wourld  coniin'  tew  I 
should  like  to  know  ?" 

Uncle  Abel  shook  his  head  with  a  sorrowful  aspect  of  coun- 
tenance. 

"  Why,  Abel,  neow  I  look,  thee's  got  on  thy  new  '  drabs  ;'  go 
'long  with  thee  an'  tak'em  right  off.  Aint  thee  ashamed  to  put 
'em  on  tu  go  tew  sich  a  dreed-ful  place.  Why  thee '11  git  'em  so 
splasht  with  mud  they'll  be  clean  ruined." 

"  Hear  me,  Aunt  'Liza,  a-tew  what  I've  got  tu  sa-a,"  said 
Abel  in  as  mild  a  tone  as  it  were  possible  for  flesh  to  employ. 
"  It  gives  me  pain  to  differ  with  thee  in  anything,  but  I've  takin' 
a  notion  tew  the  '  drabs,'  neow,  jist  fur  ycour  sake.  I  guess  I 
must  wear  'em." 

This  was  sufficient  to  change  the  current  of  his  wife's  desires. 
She  was  by  far  too  amiable  to  oppose  his  wish. 

"  Wa-al,  all  I've  got  tu  sa-a  is,  that  thee'll  tek  the  best  o'  keer 
of  'em,  fur  ef  I  spy  a  speck  of  dirt  on  'em  when  thee  cumes 
hum  as  big  as  a  bumblc-e-bee's  nose,  I  shall  feel  hurt  at  thee, 
Abel,"  the  old  dame  observed  with  emphasis. 

"  Depend  on  it,  Aunt  'Liza,  I'll  be  as  keerful  as  a  man  ken 
well  be,"  replied  Abel.  "  An'  as  I'm  unly  goin'  to  stop  in  Bos- 
ting one  night,  why  I  guess  they  can't  git  spilte  much." 

11  Wa-al,  wear  'em  then ;  an'  so  thee  comes  hum  as  spick  an' 
span  as  thee  goes,  I'll  never  be  the  one  tu  tease  thee." 

A  few  hours  after  this  conversation  the  old  man  departed 
with  a  blessing.  Considerable  of  the  funds  entrusted  to  his 
care  being  in  silver,  he  tied  it  up  in  two  pocket-handkerchiefs, 
and  placed  one  in  each  of  the  ample  pookets  of  his  coat  for  safe 
keeping. 


NEVER  SLEEP  WITH  YOUR  PANTALOONS  UNDER  YOUR  PILLOW.    83 

In  due  time  he  arrived  at  the  place  of  his  destination.  As 
he  was  almost  a  total  stranger  in  the  large  city,  he  solicited  two 
men,  who  were  lounging  at  the  depot,  to  direct  him  to  Federal- 
street.  The  question  had  no  sooner  been  put,  when,  stumbling 
over  an  obstruction  on  the  platform,  one  of  his  coat  pockets 
brushed  sharply  against  an  iron  column  of  the  portico,  and  the 
well-known  jingle  of  money  ensued.  The  two  men  telegraphed 
each  other  with  sundry  ominous  winks  and  nods ;  the  taller  of 
these  was  an  individual  of  semi-genteel  appearance,  rather 
of  the  fleshy  cast,  with  bushy  whiskers ;  his  companion  was  a 
shabby  little  man,  somewhat  picturesque  in  his  tatters,  with  a 
hat  on  his  head  much  too  large  for  him,  and  a  pair  of  old  lemon- 
coloured  gloves,  out  of  which  every  finger-nail  caught  the  sun- 
shine. One  of  his  legs  seemed  shorter  than  the  other,  and  his 
long  springy  hair  fell  over  a  face  dingy  and  pinched  with  squa- 
lor. He  was  just  such  a  hopeful  as  Saxe  speaks  of  in  one 
of  his  rhymes,  who 

limped  in  a  manner  exceedingly  queer, 


Wore  breeches  uncommonly  wide  in  the  rear, 
And  his  nose  was  turned  up  with  a  comical  sneer, 
And  he  had  in  his  eye  a  most  rillanous  leer." 

The  taller  of  the  men  instantly  stepped  forward  when  the  ques- 
tion had  been  propounded  by  Uncle  Abel. 

';  We'll  show  you  the  way  with  great  pleasure,"  said  he,  rub- 
bing his  hand  in  a  business-like  manner,  with  one  eye  bent  on 
the  pocket  from  whence  the  sound  had  proceeded  that  had  so 
taken  his  fancy.  "  It  always  gives  me  and  my  friend  delight  to 
put  gentlemen  from  the  country  right.  Don't  it,  Mr.  Mutchins  ?" 

That  worthy  limped  still  nearer  to  Uncle  Abel's  pocket,  and 
remarked  that  he  "  simply  considered  it  his  Christian  doo-ty.'1 

"  Na-ow,  gentlemen,  I'm  afear'd  I'll  gee'  thee  trouble,  wunt 
il?"  kindly  inquired  Abel. 

li  It's  a  Christian  doo-ty,"  again  remarked  Mr.  Mutchins,  with 
a  grin  at  his  companion.     Besides,  ve're  vat  is  called  the  city 


84  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

pilots,  and  are  paid  to  do  everything  on  earth  to  put  strangers 
right." 

"  Good  for  old  Bosting,"  remarked  Uncle  Abel  with  vehe- 
mence. "  Thar's  more-good  in  the  wourld  than  Elder  Peagreen 
wanted  to  make  eout.  Here  I  meet  with  Christians  the  first 
moment  I  step  my  foot  in  teown." 

"  That's  a  fact,"  said  Mutchins  with  a  penitent  leer  from  under 
his  capacious  hat.  "  Not  only  Christians,  but  the  tip-top  sort 
of  vuns.     No  gammon  about  us  I  warrants  ;  we're  bricks!" 

u  Thee  is  what  ?"  inquired  Uncle  Abel,  bending  forward  to 
catch  the  expression. 

The  taller  of  the  men  broke  in  before  his  companion  could 
reply.  Bestowing  a  scowl  at  him,  he  turned  to  Abel  and  smi- 
lingly remarked — 

"  My  friend  here  has  been  so  long  a  missionary  among  the 
Indians  that  he's  got  hold  of  some  of  their  queer  expressions." 

"  Oh,  I  understand,"  replied  the  old  man  with  the  light  of 
benignant  satisfaction  beaming  in  every  line  of  his  honest  face. 

It  was  evident  that  the  latter  of  the  rogues  was  by  far  the 
more  artful  of  the  twain,  as  he  feared  the  slang  conversation  of 
the  unpolished  Mr.  Mutchins  might  thwart  the  old  gentleman's 
freedom  of  manner. 

"  So  thee's  been  a  missionary  'mong  the  injuns,  has  thee, 
friend  ?"  inquired  Abel  of  Mutchins,  as  they  walked  onward. 

"  Yes,  sir-cr,"  replied  that  individual  in  his  most  insinuating 
tones ;  "  I  vas  for  two  years  percepter  to  the  Kick-a-poos  in 
Iowa,  and  I've  a  brother  that  married  a  daughter  of  Eagle-toes, 
chief  of  the  Skywhy  tribe.  He  got  slung  to  her  just  for  a 
shine." 

His  companion  gave  him  another  withering  look,  accompanied 
with  a  wholesome  poke  in  the  back. 

li  Jist  fur  a  shine,"  reiterated  Uncle  Abel,  not  clearly  compre- 
hending the  drift  of  this  sentence  :  "  What  duz  thee  mean  by  a 
shine  P 


NEVER  SLEEP  WITH  YOUR  PANTALOONS  UNDER  YOUR  PILLOW.    85 

"  0,  he  means  that  the  great  chief  of  the — what  was  the 
tribe  ?"  interrupted  the  tall  rogue. 

"  The  Sky  whys,  my  dear  Mr.  Thompson,"  prompted  Mutch- 
ins,  j 

"  That  the  chief  of  the  Skywhys  desired  the  marriage, 
.  because  there's  a  superstition  among  the  poor  red  men  of  the 
forest  that  matrimony  regulates  the  moon,"  explained  Mr. 
Thompson,  with  a  great  show  of  deference  and  sanctity,  at  the 
same  time,  unseen  by  Abel,  darting  looks  of  menace  at  the  little 
rogue,  who  quailed  beneath  his  glances.  "  The  Indians  are  odd 
people." 

"  Ya-as,  an'  got  sich  queer  names.  I  never  seed  an  injin,  but 
I'm  told  they're  very  fine-lookin'  men,"  said  the  old  Yankee. 

"  Oh,  sir,  you  may  well  say  that,"  chimed  Mutchins  again, 
burying  himself  in  his  hat  as  he  spoke ;  "  and  they're  an  honest 
set  of  people,  too.  I've  known  an  Indian  before  now  to  entrust 
me  with  his  watch  and  chain  for  weeks  together,  and  I've  done 
the  same  to  him,  and  we  never  had  the  slightest  trouble  in  the 
world." 

"  I  thought  the  injuns  didn't  hev  watches  and  chains.  I  had 
always  heerd  they  told  the  time  o'  day  by  the  sun,"  remarked 
Abel,  with  the  most  unsuspecting  good-humour. 

"  0,  bless  your  life,"  pursued  the  little  rogue;  "  there  vos  a 
day  ven  the  injuns  vere  as  humble  as  hop-toads ;  but  since  the 
vites  has  got  among  'em  they're  just  as  proud  as  they  can  stick 
-in  their  red  skins.  I've  known  a  great  chief  to  have  his  pokit- 
|  handjerkief  scented  afore  he'd  vipe  his  nose  with  it;  and  some 
of  the  squaws  take  sich  airs  they  vant  the  pampooses  to  learn 
French  afore  they  cuts  their  teeth." 

"  Is  it  possible  ?"  said  Uncle  Abel,  opening  his  eyes  on  a  wide 
scale. 

"  True — true,  sir.  My  friend's  well  posted  in  Indian  customs : 
he  could  tell  you  anecdotes  by  the  hour,"  said  Thompson,  with 
a  cabalistic  motion  to  his  fellow,  which  signified  the  sooner  he 


86  DASHES    OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

cut  short  his  conversation  the  better.  He  perfectly  compre- 
hended the  roguish  free-masonry,  for  he  did  not  say  another 
word  in  regard  to  the  red  men.  "  You're  from  the  country- 
far  ?"  still  further  inquired  Thompson. 

"  From  Vermont,"  replied  Uncle  Abel  sententiously. 
"  Glorious  state,  I'm  told,"  said  Thompson,  "  for  sheep  and 
grazing — not   that  way.      Zounds  !    here  we  are   in    Federal- 
street;"  and  before  he  could  finish  his  original  query  the  trio 
turned  into  a  capacious  thoroughfare. 

"  Neow,  Elder  Peagreen  teold  me  to  stop  at  the Hotel ;" 

and  Abel  pulled  from  his  pocket  a  large  leathern  wallet,  and 
took  from  it  a  card,  which  ho  unsuspectingly  passed  to  the 
shabby  young  man,  who,  not  being  blessed  with  that  qualifica- 
tion necessary  to  the  free  rendition  of  manuscript,  handed  it 
with  an  off-handishness  really  quite  natural  to  Thompson,  who 
read — Faneuil  Hotel. 

"  I'm  afear'd  I'm  really  givin'  thee  tu  much  trouble  gintle- 
men." 

"  Don't  mention  it — it's  a  delight  to  me ;  and  besides,  you 
p  know,  we're  the — "  apologized  Thompson. 

"  I  keep  forgittin'  thee  are  the  city  pilots  to  put  strangers 
right,"  remarked  Uncle  Abel,  easing  the  weight  of  the  parcels 
of  silver  in  his  pockets  by  gathering  the  skirts  of  his  coat  in  his 
grasp.     "  This  spce-che  is  pesky  heavy." 

"  Can  I  help  you  in  any  way,"  archly  observed  the  shabby 
loafer,  bristling  towards  the  old  man  with  a  pert  officiousness. 

"  Neow,  thank  thee,  friend  ;  I  shall  get  it  changed  into  bank 
notes  presently,"  replied  the  Yankee. 

Thompson  and  Co.  exchanged  glances,  and  in  a  moment  more 
they  had  reached  the  hotel. 

"  Here  we  are  ;  and,  do  you  know,  its  a  very  strange  coinci- 
dence, I  live  here  also,"  remarked  Thompson  :  and  then,  steal- 
ing a  side-speech  somewhat  theatrical,  he  said  to  his  comrade, 
"  Wait  at  the  corner  till  I  join  you."  He  took  the  command  in 
an  instant. 


NEVER  SLEEP  WITH  YOUR  FANTALOONS  UNDER  YOUR  PILLOW.    87 

-"  "Well,  as  you've  got  to  your  journey's  end,"  said  Mutchins, 
with  an  almost  hospitable  smile  on  his  uncouth  face,  "  I'll  slide 
off,  as  they  say  among  the  injuns.  Good-bye,  Mr.  Thompson  ; 
I  suppose  I'll  see  you  at  the  Bible  society  to-morrow.  Mr. — I 
haven't  the  honour  of  kowin'  your  name." 

"  Lovejoy,"  placidly  remarked  Abel.  "  G-ood-bye,  friend.  I 
feel  unkimin'  'bliged  to  thee ;"  and  filled  with  the  warmest  grat- 
itude towards  his  supposed  kind-hearted  pilot,  he  tendered  him 
a  piece  of  silver  as  a  reward.  The  shabby  rogue,  who  was  a 
natural-born  vagrant,  was  about  to  accept  it,  when  he  caught  a 
pantomimic  action  of  his  better-mannered  companion.  He 
stepped  back  abruptly,  as  if  scorning  the  proffer,  and  in  doing 
so  trod  upon  a  loose  brick,  which  sent  a  dingy  jet  of  mud  over 
Uncle  Abel's  treasured  "  drabs." 

"  Oh  goody  me  !  what  has  thee  been  and  done  !"  cried  the 
honest  old  Yankee.  "  Splasht  my  pet  drabs  after  aunt  'Liza 
told  me  what  she  did.     By  Jeosophat,  I'm  sorry  !" 

Mutchins  apologized  as  well  as  his  breeding  would  permit, 
and,  in  order  to  dissipate  the  mischief,  whipped  an  extensively- 
tattered  article  from  his  pocket,  conventionally  intended  for  a 
pocket  handkerchief,  but  which  in  reality  was  the  half  of  some- 
body's table-cloth,  now  converted  into  a  more  portable,  but  less 
ornamental  purpose.  He  bustled  around  the  old  man's  knees, 
but  only  widened  the  stains  by  his  efforts. 

"  Thar*!  thar !  what's  done  kint  be  helped,"  said  Uncle 
Able,  gazing  at  his  thanksgiving  memento  with  a  lugubrious 
face.     "  We  must  put  up  with  such  things  sometimes." 

And  they  parted — Mutchins  to  his  post  at  the  corner  of  the 
nearest  crossing,  and  our  more  finished  knave  and  his  single- 
hearted  victim  into  the  hotel.  Uncle  Able  ordered  an  apart- 
ment, and  Thompson,  strolling  into  a  corner  of  the  bar-room, 
affected  to  be  deeply  engaged  on  a  newspaper.  The  clerk  in  at- 
tendance directed  "No  17  to  be  got  ready  for  a  single  gentle- 
luan.' 


88  DASHES   OF    AMERICAN    HUMOR. 


"  I'm  not  a  single  gentleman  na-bur,"  innocently  remarked 
Abel  to  the  clerk  correctively,  "  I'm  a  married  man." 

"  Is  your  wife  with  you,  sir  ?"  asked  the  clerk. 

"  Neo  ;  Aunt  'Lize's  hum  and  well,  please  Providence,"  said 
Abel. 

The  clerk  appeared  to  comprehend  the  old  gentleman's  good- 
humored  error,  aud  merely  replying  "  All  right,  sir,"  bestowed 
his  attention  in  another  quarter.  Thompson  having  discovered 
the  number  of  the  room,  which  information  he  most  desired  at 
the  present  moment,  under  some  pretence  soon  left  the  hotel 
and  joined  his  fellow  rogue. 

The  first  commission  that  engaged  the  attention  of  Uncle 
Abel  was  to  exchange  his  freight  of  silver  into  current  bank- 
bills.  This  he  did  to  his  satisfaction  ;  and  as  he  felt  weary  with 
travel,  he  postponed  the  payments  that  ho  had  been  deputed  to 
make  until  the  next  day,  when  he  would  be  up  with  the  lark, 
fulfil  his  engagements,  and  "git  towards  hum  and  Aunt  'Liza." 
He  retired  early  for  the  purpose  of  refreshment. 

"  Neow,  I'll  hev  a  good  chunk  of  sleep,  an'  teu-morro'  I'll 
feel  as  fresh  as  a  du-drap/'  soliloquized  he,  as  he  sought  No.  17, 
on  the  second  floor,  his  allotted  place  of  rest.  "  Let  me  see — 
I've  got  ten  hundred  and  ninety-five  dollars  all  in  bank-notes,  an* 
stowed  away  in  my  wallet  snug  as  a  mouse.  I'll  take  car  teu 
git  receipts  for  what  I  pay.  Abel  Lovejoy  will  dew  the  buz'- 
ness  right  up  to  the  handle,  I  calkilate.  There's  only  one  thing 
that  worries  me.  I  could  almost  sa-a  from  the  bottom  of  my 
heart,  darn  these  dabs  of  mud,  for  Aunt  'Liza  will  be  so  snort- 
in'  huffy — she  didn't  w-ant  I  should  wear  em,  enny  how.  Deacon 
Peagreen  '11  laff  tew — th'  teazin'  critter's  all'ays  pokin'  his  fun 
at  me."     And  before  many  sands  had  run  in  the  hoar  hourglass 

of  old  Father  Time,  Abel  was  fast — fast  asleep. 

#  #  *  # 

Shortly  after  the  city  clocks  had  startled  the  still  air  of  mid- 
night with  the  chimes  of  twelve,  two  figures  might  have  been 


\ 


THE    R  o  nn E R Y 


KEVER  SLEEP  WITH  YOUR  PANTALOONS  UNDER  YOUR  PILLOW.    89 

seen  cautiously  ascending  the  broad  oH  staircase  of  the  Faneuil 
Hotel.  One  was  wrapped  in  a  cloak,  and  carried  a  dark  lan- 
tern, the  rays  of  which  poured  upon  the  garment ;  while  in  the 
shadow  of  his  companion  sculked  the  withered  figure  of  a  smaller 
man  with  a  muffled  tread.  Cautiously  and  noiselessly  they 
glided  along  the  corridor  of  the  landing,  and  examined  their 
way  with  great  caution.  As  they  gained  the  second  flight  of 
steps  a  noise  in  the  distance  startled  them. 

"  Hist !"  hissed  the  taller  of  the  two,  in  a  whisper  between 
his  teeth.     "  What's  that  ?" 

"  Blow  out  the  light — quick  !"  said  the  other ;  and  they 
crouched  with  a  shudder  of  fear  against  the  wall.  "  All  right ; 
it's  gone." 

The  noise  had  receded  to  a  mere  echo,  and  they  started  up 
re-assured,  and  soon  gained  the  top  of  the  flight,  where,  except 
a  few  struggling  moonbeams  that  fell  in  at  a  window  in  the  dis- 
tance, all  was  dark  and  silent. 

"  It's  as  dark  as  ,"  exclaimed  the  taller  with  an  oath  ; 

"  but  I've  got  matches." 

"  Don't  light  'em,"  whispered  his  companion,  who  was  en- 
gaged in  passing  his  hands  carefully  over  several  doors  on  the 
passage ;  "it  '11  be  dangerous,  and  besides  we  can  find  the 
room — there's  projectin'  figures  on  the  doors." 

It  was  as  he  said.  Each  door  was  furnished  with  raised 
numerals  carved  in  brass  to  denote  the  number  of  the  rooms. 

"  Vat's  the  figures,  Thompson  ?"  inquired  the  voice  again, 
which  the  reader  of  course  will  know  belonged  to  the  philan- 
thropic ex-Indian  missionary,  Mr.  Mumble  Mutchins,*  who  it 
seems  was  neglecting  the  precepts  of  his  bible  class  shamefully. 

"  Hush,  I've  got  it !"  and  again  they  paused  before  No.  17, 
as  the  carved  figures  plainly  indicated. 

Thompson  breathlessly  tried  the  door,  and  it  yielded  to  a 
slight  push.  They  paused  for  an  instanl  on  the  threshold,  and 
then  with  noiseless  step  passed  in. 


90  DASHES   OF    AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

"  It's  all  right,"  whispered  Mutchins,  "  the  old  fellow  snores 
like  a  steam-engine  ;  shall  I  strike  a  match  ?" 

Thompson  was  an  adroit  knave,  and  preferred  robbing  in  the 
dark,  or  rather  by  the  pale  light  that  the  moon  afforded.  He 
therefore  negatived  his  companion's  request. 

They  groped  carefully  about  the  apartment,  and  soon  got 
their  hands  upon  Uncle  Abel's  garments,  every  pocket  of  which 
was  strictly  examined,  though  without  avail. 

Mutchins  at  this  moment  made  a  discovery — they  had  not 
yet  seen  his  pantaloons. 

"  Curse  it,  I  hav'nt  had  my  feelers  on  his  trowsers — havo 
you  ?"  whispered  he. 

The  tall  robber  started  with  the  force  of  the  remark.  He 
had  overhauled  coat,  waistcoat,  and  even  the  hat  and  boots,  and 
still  there  was  no  vestige  of  plunder. 

"  Where  the  devil  can  his  pantaloons  be  ?"  thought  Thomp- 
son as  he  crept  about  the  room  and  passed  his  hands  nervously 
about  the  bed. 

"  'Gad,  may-be  he  sleeps  in  'em,"  suggested  Mutchins  in  the 
ear  of  the  other. 

"  Fool !  don't  howl  in  that  voice  or  there'll  be  mischief,"  and 
he  clutched  the  Indian  priest  by  the  neck  to  strengthen  the 
meaning  of  his  appeal. 

Mutchins  winced  and  crept  under  the  bed  on  his  hands  and 
knees,  he  having  the  faculty  of  making  himself  small  and  scarce 
to  order. 

A  few  moments'  more  search  and  Thompson  discovered  that 
the  trowsers  were  carefully  rolled  and  packed  under  the  pillow 
of  the  sleeper.  He  at  once  concluded  that  the  prize  they  sought 
was  there  nestled  for  safety,  and  immediately  the  difficulty  of 
extrication  presented  itself.  It  would  have  been  madness  to 
hope  to  remove  his  head,  as  the  operation  was  perilous.  A  mo- 
ment's thought,  and  he  had  hit  on  a  plan.  The  old  man 
breathed  deeply,  and  with  a  calm  regularity  that  denoted  the 


NEVER  SLEEP  WITH  YOUR  PANTALOONS  UNDER  YOUR  PILLOW.    91 

heaviness  of  his  slumbers.  Bestowing  a  kick  upon  his  little 
crouching  companion  which  brought  him  to  his  feet,  Thompson, 
without  uttering  a  word,  took  from  his  pocket  the  extensive 
handkerchief  previously  referred  to,  and  joining  it  firmly  with 
a  coil  of  stout  cord  that  he  produced  from  his  boot,  he  tied  it  to 
a  portion  of  the  pantaloons  that  protruded  from  the  pillow,  and 
then  slowly  passed  the  cord  out  of  the  window. 

He  gazed  cautiously  about,  and  all  seemed  still.  The  window 
overlooked  a  small  unfrequented  street,  which  served  the  fur- 
therance of  his  object.  Turning  to  Mutchins,  he  found  him 
fraudulently  industrious  in  pocketing  a  number  of  napkins  that 
had  been  intended  as  accessories  to  Abel's  morning  toilette,  but 
which  laudable  domestic  design  the  knave  had  determined  to 
defeat. 

Thompson  pressed  his  arm,  and  motioned  him  to  follow; 
and  casting  a  wistful  glance  at  a  square  of  mottled  soap,  which 
he  seemed  to  leave  with  a  sigh  of  forbearance,  they  once  more 
stealthily  gained,  with  noiseless  tread  and  with  some  interrup- 
tion, the  street. 

"  That's  what  I  calls  great  doins',"  remarked  Mr.  Mumble 
Mutchins,  when  he  got  safely  into  the  fresh  air,  which  he 
seemed  to  inhale  with  a  gusto  quite  luxuriant.  "  I  say,  Tom, 
we  can  beat  the  world  a'  doin'  anything  of  this  sort,  eh  ?" 

Thompson  replied  only  by  a  scowl. 

"  Vy,  guv'ner,  you  needn't  be  so  doggish.     I  takes  no  per- 
-tickler  credit  to  myself,  more  than  I  seed  you  do  it." 

"  Be  silent !  and  obey  my  orders." 

They  sought  the  street  into  which  the  cord  had  been  sus- 
pended, and  by  the  aid  of  the  moon  experienced  but  little  diffi 
culty  in  finding  it.  There  was  one  fault.  It  fell  the  length  oi 
a  finger  short  of  their  reach. 

"  Make  a  back,"  said  Thompson,  seizing  his  fellow  by  the 
shoulders,  and  thrusting  him  forward. 

Mutchins  appeared  to  comprehend  the  nature  of  the  request. 


92  DASHES   OF    AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

and  rested  his  hands  on  his  knees,  while  Thompson  scrambled 
upon  him,  and  balanced  himself  by  bearing  to  the  wall.  He 
grasped  the  cord,  and  wound  it  firmly  around  his  fingers. 

"  Now,  steady  below  there,1'  murmured  the  robber  in  a  muf- 
fled tone;  "and  I'll  give  a  grand  pull." 

There  was  an  effort  and  a  struggle.  Thompson  by  a  forcible 
attempt  brought  the  pantaloons  flying  out  of  the  window,  and 
Mutchins,  growing  weak  in  the  knees,  wavered,  and  precipitated 
his  companion  head-foremost  on  the  curb.  The  next  moment  a 
head  was  seen  above,  and  a  voice  heard  uttering  "  Thieves ! 
murder !  villany  !"  and  expressions  of  similar  alarm  and  signi- 
ficance. Seizing  the  booty,  the  robbers  fled ;  and  a  guardian 
of  the  night  was,  after  considerable  vociferation,  summoned  be- 
neath the  window,  and  the  cause  of  disturbance  hurriedly 
communicated.  But  it  was  too  late;  the  culprits  were  not  to 
be  found,  and  the  affair  was  voted  a  disaster. 

Now  for  the  sequel. 

Before  retiring,  Uncle  Abel  had  carefully  placed  his  pocket- 
book  in  his  pantaloons,  and  buried  them  beneath  his  head  for 
security ;  and  notwithstanding  the  dexterity  of  the  plunderers, 
an  accident  fortunately  thwarted  their  views.  The  garment  in 
its  sudden  passage  from  its  concealment  came  sharply  in  con- 
tact with  the  sill,  and  dislodged  the  pocket-book ;  and  while  the 
"  drabs  "  went  their  way,  the  prize  that  prompted  the  operation 
fell  unharmed  beneath  the  window.  The  good  old  Yankee 
blessed  Providence,  and  said  all  sorts  of  pious  proverbs  in  the 
impulse  of  his  gratitude,  but  at  the  same  time  was  inconsolable 
on  his  wife's  account  at  the  loss  of  her  thanksgiving  gift. 

He  avers  that  he  will  never  again  sleep  with  his  pantaloons 
under  his  pillow. 


93 


PARAGRAPHS  ABOUT  PEACHES. 


"  The  soft  impeachment." — Popular  Phrase. 
"  Up,  boys,  and  at  them." — Wellington. 

We  are  under  the  impression,  as  far  as  our  experience  and 
observation  go,  that  the  fruit  fanciers  of  Great  Britain  have 
never  enjoyed  peaches  as  they  grow  in  New- Jersey ;  a  State 
with  a  very  sandy  soil,  lying  with  its  breast  exposed  to  the  sea, 
between  the  sister  States  of  New-York  and  Pennsylvania. 
There  peaches  are  indeed  peaches — so  large,  plump,  rosy,  and 
mellow — the  very  incarnation  of  luxurious  delicacy.  The  wall 
peach  that  we  have  eaten  in  England  is  deficient  in  that  deli- 
cious flavour  characteristic  of  the  New-Jersey  and  Delaware 
fruit,  albeit  much  time  and  attention  is  bestowed  on  its  rearage. 
There  the  tree  grows  spontaneously,  in  a  measure  ;  and  it  is  a 
most  delightful  picture  to  see,  in  early  morning,  an  orchard,  of 
several  miles  in  extent,  with  its  pale  pink  and  subdued  crim- 
soned blossoms,  a  dew-drop  sleeping  in  the  bosom  of  each,  and 
the  long,  graceful,  tapering  leaves  nodding  obediently,  and  lav- 
ishing their  rich  odour  on  the  wanton  air-currents  that  play- 
fully dally  through  them.  This  is  the  first  stage  only  of  the 
beauty  of  the  peach  orchard.  When  the  blossom  is  promptly 
passing  into  the  young  germ,  and  the  leaves  slowly  and  sorrow- 
fully disappear,  nevermore  to  turn  up  their  blushing  surfaces  to 
the  moonlight,  then  the  trees  present  a  really  delightful  effect. 
The  young  fruit,  nestling  among  the  leaves,  and  hugging  the 
twigs,  like  a  babe  clinging  to  the  breast  of  its  mother,  suggests 
the  idea  of  a  number  of  spoiled  pets,  afraid  to  leave  the  apron- 


94  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

strings  of  their  parent  stems,  and,  confident  of  their  security, 
peep  saucily  out  at  the  passers-by,  seeming  to  promise  what 
they  will  be  when  age  and  the  sun  shall  have  matured  their 
tempting  development.  The  "  last  stage  of  all  that  ends"  this 
progressive  scene  of  loveliness  and  beauty,  are  the  clusters  of 
fruit,  rich,  round,  and  perfectly  ripe,  inviting  the  hand  to  pluck 
them,  as  they  seem  quite  ready  to  renounce  their  birth-place, 
and  divide  pro  bono  publico^  as  destiny  may  rule  the  matter — 
provided,  of  course,  that  destiny  ever  meddles  herself  with 
peaches.  +* 

How  often  have  we  selected  a  clear,  blue-skied,  bright  day, 
when  just  a  wing  of  shade  has  rested  under  the  sweeping  boughs 
of  the  orchard,  and  lounging  about  in  a  robe  de  chambrc,  and  a 
clumsy-looking  sombrero,  plucked  the  most  gushing  of  the  fruit 
as  it  exposed  its  scarlet  sides,  ripening  by  the  aid  of  the  gleams 
of  sunlight  that  crept  noiselessly  through  the  trellis  of  foliage  ! 
-The  profusion  seemed  to  invoke  an  appetite,  and  health  waiting 
on  it,  we  were  not  so  choice  as  to  require  a  plate  and  knife,  but 
went  at  it  sa?is  ccrcmonie,  pull  and  eat,  and  pull  again.  Such 
nectar  was  never  distilled  for  the  revels  of  Jupiter,  if  Hebe,  (a 
young  lady  for  whom,  if  mythological  archives  are  to  be 
depended  upon,  we  entertain  a  very  high  regard)  did  ofttimes 
bear  the  enamelled  goblet  in  her  lily-white  hands. 

Insects  seem  to  have  a  marked  predilection  for  peach  trees. 
"We  do  not  mean  the  offensive  grubs  and  moths  that  pierce  the 
fruit  and  sap  its  heart;  we  refer  more  particularly  to  what 
Shelley  calls  the  "plumed"  tribe — bees,  gnats,  wasps,  and 
bluebottle-flies,  that  spin  and  sparkle  in  the/jlear  atmosphere, 

"  Like  golden  boats  in  a  6unny  sea," 

and  pop  down  on  the  peaches,  then  make  a  detour  in  the  air, 
and  finally,  after  hum-drumming  and  buzzing  about  in  the 
leaves,  like  the  dying  tones  of  a  harpsichord,  shoot  off  with  the 
speed  of  an  arrow,  perfect  winged  coquettes,  settling  on  the 


PARAGRAPHS  ABOUT  PEACHES.  95 

harebell,  drinking  the  sweets  of  the  rose,  and  committing  innu- 
merable petty  larcenies  on  the  honeysuckle  and  woodbines. 

But,  talking  about  the' blossoms,  and  the  insects,  and  the 
sunshine,  we  are  taking  steam,  and  running  away,  on  the  elec- 
tric telegraph  of  fancy,  from  what  we  started  to  tell  our  readers 
about ;  so  we  will  "  once  more  to  the  peach,"  and  not  be 
seduced,  by  these  little  delights,  to  again  stray  from  our  design. 

"We  have  said  the  peaches  are  now  ripe.  They  are,  and  must 
be  gathered.  The  farmer  that  we  have  at  this  moment  got  in 
our  mind's  eye,  owns  twelve  acres  of  trees,  and  in  order  that  the 
fruit  may  not  be  over-ripened,  it  must  be  got  in  by  a  certain 
date.  We  will  suppose  it  to  be  the  early  part  of  August,  and 
the  young  fruit,  nicely  ripened  and  assorted,  has  been  sent  to 
the  market  some  months  before.  Now  the  backward  crop  must 
be  looked  to,  and  preparations  are  made  for  a  fete  champetre  of 
the  first  order  of  rustic  sensibility.  All  the  neighboring  lads 
and  lasses  for  several  miles  round  will  be  solicited  to  participate 
in  the  joint  affair  of  labour  and  pleasure,  as  they  will  assist  our 
farmer  to  get  in  his  crop.  The  domestic  corps  is  increased  by 
the  arrival  of  several  of  those  ever-excellent  maiden  aunts  that 
one  finds  in  most  households,  whose  duty  it  will  be  to  superin- 
tend the  internal  arrangements.  And  now  an  overhauling  of 
hardware  takes  place,  in  which  burly  saucepans,  exaggerated  tin 
cups,  and  very  corpulent  copper  kettles  are  prominent  features. 
The  crockery  likewise  undergoes  a  similar  investigation  ;  milk- 
pans,  jugs  and  pitchers  being  pressed  into  the  service.  These 
are  all  sent  down  to  the  spring — the  dimpled  waters  of  which 
run  laughingly  through  the  mead,  so  prettily  powdered  with 
buttercups  and  taraxacum  blossoms — and  are  washed,  until,  in 
the  language  of  old  Aunt  Barbara,  they  are  "  as  sweet  and  clean 
as  new  pins." 

Our  farmer,  whose  chirography  is  none  of  the  best,  as  he 
has  never  given  his  attention  to  hair-strokes  nor  pot-hooks,  does 
not  write  invites  on  crimson-edged  enamelled  note  paper ;  no, 


96  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

he  saddles  the  best  horse  in  the  stable,  and  investing  himself  in 
a  clean  shirt,  a  linsey-woolsey  coat,  and  a  mole-skin  wide-brim- 
med hat,  (his  Sunday  go-to-meeting  outfit,)  he  ambles  away  to 
wait  on  his  neighbors,  who  require  no  conventional  formality 
beyond  the  manly,  honest  shake  of  the  hand. 

"  What's  a  doing  on  Thursday  next  ?''  inquires  the  farmer. 

"  Never  idle ;  why  ?"  is  something  like  the  rejoinder. 

"  We  want  to  get  in  the  peaches  that  day,  and  if  your  people 
can  lend  us  a  hand  we'll  feel  obliged,  and  of  course  stand  ready 
for  the  same  favour." 

u  By  all  means ;  it  shall  be  arranged." 

These  are  almost  all  of  the  preliminaries  required  to  gain  the 
services  of  the  neighbours.  They  do  nut  mind  early  rising;  it 
is  one  of  their  many  good  habits  to  witness  the  morn,  clad  in 
his  mantle  of  russet, 

*'  Walk  o'er  the  dew  of  yon  high  eastern  bill." 

Thus,  the  farmer  makes  an  excursion  among  his  rural  brethren, 
who  all  appear  t«»  experience  a  sincere  pleasure  at  being  able  to 
render  assistance  one  to  another.  There  are  no  hems  !  nor  hol- 
low apologies,  nor  empty  regrets,  or  "  I  would  if — ,"  or  "  I'm 
so  sorry,  but — ;"  expressions  that  will  at  once  be  familiar  to 
those  who  have  in  vain  sought  favor  from  the  wayward  giddy 
world  in  town.  Here  there  is  nothing  of  the  sort.  A  hearty 
compliance  succeeds  the  request,  and  a  glow  of  pleasure  lights 
up  the  ruddy  face  of  the  husbandman,  as  his  heart  responds  to 
his  neighbor's  desire.  How  pleasing  is  such  fraternity,  and 
what  an  example  does  it  present  to  the  many  ranks  of  society, 
ever  at  variance,  in  fanning  the  flame  of  petty  conventional  pre- 
judice. 

The  morning  of  the  day  has  arrived  in  which  the  fruit  is  to 
be  gathered.  Prompt  as  the  light  of  the  morning  the  neigh- 
bors assemble.  We  can  descry  them  coming  down  the  long, 
green-wooded  lane,  in  their  old  frowzy-topped  wagons.     This 


PARAGRAPHS  ABOUT  PEACHES.  97 

one  contains  a  farmer,  his  wife — a  happy-faced  elderly  lady — 
and  several  bouncing,  chubby  girls, — perfect  merry  little  dump- 
lings, with  very  red  cheeks,  lips  ditto,  and  hair  curled  in  long 
graceful  tresses.  How  they  run  and  romp  into  the  house,  and  kiss 
the  several  old  maiden  ladies,  and  shake  hands  with  the  host 
and  hostess,  and  hug  the  children's  pudcly  figures,  until  they 
are  ready  to  squeal  out  like  young  porkers  !  Another  group  of 
girls  soon  come,  with  moss-roses  twined  in  their  soft  brown 
hair,  or  twin  blue-bells,  "  at  whose  birth  the  sod  scarce  heaved," 
pinned  in  their  belts.  These  kiss  those  who  have  preceded 
them ;  and  thus  the  greetings  go  on  until  all  of  them  arrive  ; 
for  as  the  farmers  with  few  exceptions  know  each  other,  intro- 
ductions do  not  necessarily  take  place,  but  all  feel  at  once  at  home. 

Breakfast  is  spread  out  of  doors  on  a  long  old-fashioned  oak 
table  on  the  lawn,  in  front  of  a  row  of  tall  poplars,  and  soon 
the  meal  is  over ;  the  boys  get  ready  the  large  baskets,  and  all 
in  a  cluster  sally  out  to  the  orchard,  which  is  a  mile  distant 
from  the  house,  each  of  the  girls  having  taken  the  precaution 
of  bringing  with  her  a  large  calico  or  chintz  sun-bonnet,  which 
effectually  shields  her  countenance  from  the  burning  rays  of 
the  day-orb. 

It  is  a  pretty  sight !  There  is  a  Kate,  a  Cordelia,  a  Blanche, 
a  Flora,  a  Rosabel,  a  Fanny,  and  a  Beatrice,  all  in  a  group — 
for  be  it  known  that  the  American  demoiselles  have  a  passion 
for  choice  names.  They  cannot  bear  Mary,  notwithstanding 
Byron  and  Burns  both  felt  an  absolute  passion  for  it,  and  it  is 
still  the  theme  of  bards  and  bardlings  of  all  countries.  They 
also  avoid  Sarah,  although  its  poetical  form  is  Sally,  which  is 
found  in  many  a  sonnet;  perhaps  they  dread  the  contraction 
Sal,  which,  we  confess,  is  harsh  and  unmusical.  Lucy  they 
think  too  much  behind  the  age ;  for,  as  Barry  Cornwall  has  it — 

"  Lucy  is  a  (g)olden  girl," 

and  Susan,  of  Hebrew  origin,  albeit  it  signifies  a  lily,  is  not  suf- 
ficiently euphonious  for  their  taste. 


98  DASHES    OP   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

There  they  go,  these  happy,  jolly-looking  girls,  with  their  pret- 
ty names.  How  they  do  "  Blanche  dear,"  and  "  Fanny  love,"  and 
"Beatrice  darling,"  each  other,  to  be  sure!  Some  pause  to 
pluck  flowers,  others  skip  like  young  kids ;  and  the  silvery 
peals  of  laughter  echoing  through  the  green  vaults  of  the  grove 
impress  one  with  the  conviction  that  they  can  indeed  boast  of 
the  real  wealth  of  life.  There  are  two  or  three  careless  of  the 
sunshine,  and  in  no  fear  of  freckles,  tripping  along  with  their 
bonnets  in  their  hands,  the  girdles  that  fettered  their  hair  hav- 
ing slipped  away ;  and  now  the  clustering  curls,  free  and  unre- 
strained, are  dancing  about  their  well-curved  necks.  On  they  go, 
as  merry  as  wild  birds  ;  but  where  are  the  males  all  this  time  ? 
We  have  been  so  taken  up  with  the  girls  that  we  quite  forgot 
our  own  sex.  Well,  this  is  natural,  as  we  always  obey  that 
musty,  yet  good  old  couplet,  commencing — 

"  When  a  lady's  in  the,"  &c 

The  boys  have  detached  themselves  from  the  girls,  and 
gone  on  ahead  with  the  baskets,  while  the  men  are  looking  after 
the  carts. 

The  duty  of  the  day,  then,  is  thus  divided  : — The  boys  are  to 
shake  the  trees,  the  girls  to  pick  up  the  fruit,  and  load  the 
baskets,  for  the  men  to  carry  to  the  carts,  who  return  them  for 
filling.  This  arrrangement,  immediately  on  the  arrival  of  tho 
various  parties,  goes  into  effect. 

The  boys  can  climb  like  young  squirrels,  and  up  the  little 
trees  they  go,  and,  perching  on  a  topmost  bough,  sing  a  monot- 
onous chaunt — se-e-e-c-e  sa-a-a-a-a-a-w,  rocking  the  well-stored 
branches  in  time  with  the  voice.  There  are  two  girls  for  each 
tree,  and  softly  the  fruit  drops  on  the  grass  all  around  like  hail. 
Blanche  and  Kate,  for  example,  are  under  a  tree  that  is  bend- 
ing down  with  its  load  of  loveliness. 

"  Bless  me,  Billy,"  says  the  former  of  the  two,  looking  up  in- 
to the  tree,  and  losing  her  vision  in  an  alley  of  green  leaves ; 


PARAGRAPHS  ABOUT  PEACHES.  99 

"  don't  let  them  hit  me  on  the  head  in  that  manner.  Eigh ! 
there  goes  my  comb  all  to  splinters." 

Billy,  the  young  gentleman  addressed — of  whom  no  part  is 
visible  except  one  very  brown  hand,  and  a  foot  which  would  be 
nude,  if  it  were  not  that  three  of  the  toes  are  attired  in  a  suit 
of  brown  mud — smirks  and  says,  "he  be  darned  if  he  could 
help  it." 

Kate — and  we  believe  these  Kates  are  pretty  much  all  saucy 
creatures — laughs,  and  as  she  draws  her  sun-bonnet  closer  to  her 
face,  that  Blanche  may  not  observe  her  mirth,  a  large  peach 
wickedly  selects  her  nose  as  a  goal  and  down  it  comes,  causing 
her  to  shriek  most  musically,  and  to  rub  her  nose,  and  then  look 
at  her  hands,  to  see  whether  "  it  will  have  blood." 

The  trees  look  as  if  they  had  been  suddenly  seized  with  a  fit 
of  the  ague,  for  they  are  shaking  in  all  directions.  There  are 
some  twenty  boys  at  work,  Billys,  Tommys,  and  Johnnys,  and  a 
rare  set  of  vagabonds  they  are,  up  to  all  species  of  mischief,  and 
ever  rip*  for  anything  in  the  way  of  sport.  The  fruit  is  now 
ancle  deep,  as 

"  Thick  as  autumnal  leaves  that  strew  the  vales 
In  Vallombrosa ;" 

but  the  girls  are  active,  and  soon  fill  the  baskets,  which  are  borne 
away  by  the  men,  and  emptied  into  the  carts  stationed  at  vari- 
ous points  of  the  orchard. 

So  it  goes  on  until  noon-tide,  when  they  all  adjourn  to  dinner, 
which  is  spread  in  the  purest  home-bred  style,  as  before,  on  the 
anemonepaven  lawn.  There  are  not  trentc-dcux  potages  and 
entrements  a  la  Symposium,  Soyer  fashion,  to  be  sure ;  but  all 
of  these  French  ollapodridas  are  amply  compensated  by  mounds 
of  white  and  brown  bread,  and  such  glorious  butter  (with  all 
due  deference  #>  Devonshire),  to  say  nothing  of  the  home-cured 
ham,  fresh-laid  eggs,  veal,  young  lamb,  chickens,  served  in  seve- 
ral ways,  only  not  seasoned  to  such  an  extent  as  to  conceal  the 
natural  flavour,  and  every  variety  of  vegetables  in  season.   Then 


100  DASHES    OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

the  pies ! — not  your  little  insignificant  pale-looking  things  ono 
finds  at  the  restaurants  in  town,  that  look  as  if  they  were 
ashamed  of  themselves ;  but  large,  noble,  prodigious  specimens, 
large  enough  to  lay  down  in,  with  the  upper-crust  for  a  quilt ; 
reminding  us  of  the  giant  that  some  redoubtable  tourist  saw  in 
the  moon,  who  required  two  visits  to  be  seen  to  advantage. 

As  there  is  no  wine  after  dinner,  nor  a  prolongation  of  des- 
sert, the  guests  return  to  their  labours,  the  old  men  first  adjourn- 
ing to  the  ante-room  at  the  side  of  the  pantry,  where  they  in- 
dulge in  a  draught  of  "apple  jack,''  as  whisky  is  commonly 
called  in  that  part  of  the  country.  By  four  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon  the  trees  begin  to  assume  a  bare  appearance,  or  rather 
the  fruit  has  grown  scarce,  ami  with  the  exception  of  a  stray 
peach  here  and  there,  that  has,  like  the  valiant  Cataline,  resisted 
the  general  agitation,  it  is  housed  ready  for  exportation  to  the 
nearest  city  market.  The  host  next  desires  all  those  who  may 
not  have  orchards  of  their  own  to  select  out  each  a  bushel  of 
the  finest  fruit,  to  be  conveyed  home  for  their  own  use.  Blanche 
and  Kate  are  cousins,  and  reside  in  the  same  homestead,  and  it 
is  amusing  to  watch  them  as  they  fill  the  basket  allotted  for 
their  share. 

:t  Look,  Kate,  what  a  darling  !"'  says  Blanche,  holding  up  a 
beautiful  downy  specimen.  "  It  blushes  all  over  like  a  young 
bride." 

"  Just  as  you  will  when  you  arc  led  to  the  altar,"  replies  Kate, 
laughingly,  "eh;?" 

"  Never ;  because,  coz,  you  know  I've  settled  on  being  an  old 
maid,  like  Deborah  there,"  replies  Blanche. 

"Old  fiddlesticks.  You  an  old  maid!  Well,  I  like  that; 
did'nt  I  catch  you,  only  last  Sunday,  casting  side  glances  at 
young  squire — what's  his  name — he  with  th«  red  hair  and 
the—" 

Blanche  crimsons  like  the  peach  she  has  just  tossed  so  care- 
lessly into  the  basket  and  makes  no  reply. 


PARAGRAPHS  ABOUT  PEACHES.  101 

u  Ha !  ha  !  ha  !  I've  done  it,  I  find,"  continues  Kate,  observing 
the  blood  mantling  in  her  comp;itioa'svfair  cheeks  ;  "  Now, 
why  don't  yon  confide  in  me,  and  theD  I'll  never  plague  you 
again  about  Jerry." 

"  Jerry  !"  interrupts  Blanche  sneeringly:  "  I'll  thank  you, 
Miss,  his  name  is  not  Jerry." 

li  Dear-a-me,  you  need'nt  Miss  me  because  I  mistook  the 
young  man's  name.  I'm  sure  Jerry  is  pretty.  How  tender  to 
say — <  Jeremiah,  love,  hand  me  a  glass  of  water,'  or  '  Jerry, 
dear,  do  so-and-so' — eh,  coz?" 

'•'  Kate,  you're  a  provoking  puss,  that's  what  you  are.  I  just 
told  you  that  his  name  is  not  Jerry." 

"  What  is  it,  then  ?" 

"I  don't  know  that  I  shall  tell  you." 

"  I  can  guess — Bobby?"  continued  Kate,  a  sly,  roguish  smile 
playing  about  the  corners  of  her  pretty  red  lips. 

"  No,  no,  no !"  cries  Blanche,  raising  her  voice  on  the  succes- 
sive word,  and  nearly  rising  from  off  her  feet  with  the  moment- 
ary emotion. 

"  Ah !  now  I  have  it.  I'll  bet  a  peach  it's  Peter,"  cries  the 
madcap. 

Blanche's  eyes  got  suddenly  and  particularly  bright. 

"  You  don't  contradict  it — I  see  it's  Peter;  why  I'm  sure 
that's  not  half  so  nice  as  Jerry,  and  you  pretended  you  didn't 
like  that  a  bit." 

Blanche's  eyes  still  grow  brighter — diamonds  are  dull  to 
them. 

"  Why  don't  you  speak  ?  Are  you  angry  because  I've  hit 
on  his  name  ?  Why,  how  your  heart  beats  !  I  can  see  its  mo- 
tions here;"  and,  giving  her  companion  a  gentle  tap  on  the  chin, 
she  bursts  into  a  fit  of  laughter. 

Blanche  drives  back  her  rising  emotions,  and  finds  out,  over 
the  peach  basket,  that  she  has  really  a  very  great  regard — more 
than  she  has  ever  dreamed  of — for  the  young  squire  in  question. 
She  summons  her  courage  and  says — 


102  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

"  I  shall  never  love  you  any  more,  Kate !" 

"  Ha  !  ha.'  .won't  you;  iadsed-?" 

"Never!" 

"  3feq  t  &<&  gfte&  %ik  i^mo  ?     Ha !  ha !" 

"  No ;"  and  poor  Blanche  is  so  much  confused,  now  that  the 
inward  glow  of  excitement  has  subsided,  that  she  does  not 
observe  that  the  basket  is  full,  and  that  the  peaches  keep  tum- 
bling out  at  one  side  while  she  puts  them  in  at  the  other. 

"  0 !  I  can't  be ;  you  forget  yourself." 

"  Me  forget  myself,  indeed;  I  think  you  forget  yourself 7" 
and  Miss,  to  be  impressive,  draws  herself  up  in  the  most  ap- 
proved manner. 

Kate,  to  be  convincing,  points  to  tho  peaches  strewn  about 
the  ground,  when  Blanche,  suddenly  becoming  aware  of  the  real 
cause,  looks  foolish,  and  attempts  to  cough  away  the  feeling. 
All  at  once  she  thinks  of  an  expedient,  and  resolves  to  turn  the 
tables  against  her  vivacious  relative. 

u  What  would  you  give  to  know  his  name  ?"  she  says. 

"A  dime." 

"  And  will  you  never  mention  it  ?" 

"  Never." 

"On  your  honour?" 

"  'Pon  honour !" 

"  As  true  as  you've  this  day  picked  peaches  ?" 

"  Why,  Blanche,  how  can  you  doubt  me  ?"  her  curiosity,  by 
this  time,  in  reality,  excited  to  ascertain  the  name. 

"  I'm  afraid,  notwithstanding  all  you  have  said,  that  you'll 
tell,"  continues  Blanche,  her  companion's  growing  curiosity  not 
being  lost  on  her. 

11  Then,  Blanche,  in  plain  terms,  you  must  think  me  a  — " 

"  Oh  !  no  I  don't ;  but  yet  I  have  a  reason  for  saying  this." 

"  What  can  it  be  ?  Nothing  serious,  I  hope  ?  He  hasn't 
written  a  confidential  billet-doux  to  you,  and  I  not  see  it, 
Blanche?" 


PARAGE.APKS  ABOUT  PEACHES.  103 

"  You  don't  know  all." 

"  Oh  !"  says  Kate,  stamping  her  foot  with  impatience,  "  what 
is  it  ?  Don't  keep  me  in  suspense  any  longer.  Speak !  or 
when  I  go  home  111  rummage  every  drawer  in  the  houso  but 
I'll  find  it." 

"  You  wouldn't  dare." 

"  I  declare  I'll  tell  your  ma,  then  ;"  and  the  young  lady  be- 
gins to  feel  slightly  provoked. 

"  Turn  tell-tale  !     Oh,  Kate  !  I'm  ashamed  of  you." 

"  No,  I  won't ;  that  was  only  my  fun." 

"  Ah  !  you're  playing  the  inquisitor  :  you'll  make  me  tell  my 
secrets,  whether  I  will  or  no." 

"  But  it's  quite  natural." 
•     "  So  it  is." 

"  Now,  do  tell  me  his  name,  at  least,  that's  a  dear." 

Blanche  taxes  her  imagination  for  a  moment  to  invent  a  fic- 
titious name.     She  has  it. 

"  Well,  now  honour  bright,  its " 

"  Yes " 

"  Sammy " 

"  Sammy.     Yes." 

"  Sammy  Sutton  Soapsuds." 

"  Sammy  Sutton  Soapsuds  !"  cries  Kate,  again  bursting  into 
a  shrill  laugh ;  '•  what  a  name  for  a  squire  !  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  !  I 
wouldn't  marry  a  man  with  such  a  name  if  he  was  a  king,  and 
covered  all  over  with  jewels  and  gold.  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  !"  and  she 
runs  off  in  an  ebullition  of  glee  to  join  a  party  of  girls  about  to 
play  at  blind-man1  s-buff  on  the  lawn,  well  satisfied  that  she  has 
found  out  the  name  of  her  cousin's  lover ;  while  Blanche,  not 
quite  so  blithe,  is  happy  to  think  that  she  had  ironically  dis- 
posed of  a  subject  of  more  importance  to  her  than  she  had  at 
first  conceived. 

We  never,  in  the  course  of  our  journeyings,  came  across  a 
circuit  of  farm-houses  but  some  one  of  the  tenantry  had  pre- 


104  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

tensions  to  the  violin — most  generally  an  old  gray-headed 
fellow,  blind  of  an  eye,  who  could,  by  dint  of  hard  scraping,  get 
through  a  certain  number  of  quick  steps,  marches,  and  fandan- 
goes, venerable  on  account  of  their  antiquity,  the  melodies  of  all 
of  which,  by  some  strange  analogy,  which  we  have  never  seen 
properly  explained  in  any  essay  on  the  science  that  we  have 
read,  bear  a  striking  resemblance  to  each  other.  It  is  not  to  be 
presumed  that  our  farmer  will  engage  a  brass  or  string  band 
"  from  town,"  as  the  Jersey  folks  say ;  but  his  guests  must  be 
content  to  trip  it  on  the  green  sward  to  the  music  of  an  old  fid- 
dle— perhaps  the  G-  string  not  at  home,  too — and  u  Barbary 
Allen,"  arranged  as  an  allegretto,  is  struck  up  and  gone  through 
with,  at  the  rise  of  some  eclat,  not  forgetting  the  really  clever 
performance  of  ';  Blue-eyed  Mary,"  with  ad  libitum  variations, 
which  arc  much  admired,  and  which  the  girls  particularly  call 
"  so  very,  very  sweet." 

A  country  reel  follows  ;  but  the  girls  soon  grow  weary,  and 
the  wagons  are  got  ready  for  home.  "  Good  bye,  good  bye  !" 
is  the  universal  shout.  "Many  thanks!  many  thank-!'  La 
echoed  back  from  the  household,  and  now  a  regular  flying  artil- 
lery of  kissing  takes  place.  The  old  maiden  aunts  have  spruced 
up,  and  being  general  favourites,  or  rather  on  account  of  having 
past  the  spring  time  of  their  lives,  more  liberties  arc  taken  with 
them  by  the  young  farmers,  who  bestow  sundry  kind  taps  on 
their  shoulders,  and  call  them  u  nice  young  crccters,"  something 
after  the  fashion  that  gray  old  gentlemen  in  bag  wigs  poke  the 
sides  of  volatile  young  spendthrifts  in  the  old  comedies. 

The  girls,  too,  have  a  hearty  squeeze  all  around.  They  are 
not  let  off  without  some  fond  demonstration.  Kate  kisses 
Beatrice,  and  Fanny  does  the  same  to  Rosabel,  and  Blanche 
makes  a  regular  tour  of  red  lips,  being  the  general  favourite  of 
the  company.  Then  one  by  one  the  vehicles  drive  off,  until  the 
bulk  of  the  guests  have  departed,  the  omega  of  as  pleasant  an 
interchange  of  friendship  as  a  philanthropic  Howard  would  wish 
to  witness. 


PARAGRAPHS  ABOUT  PEACHES.  105 

It  now  remains  for  the  fruit  to  be  sorted  into  bushels,  accord- 
ing to  its  size  and  quality,  the  decayed  portion  being  reserved 
for  the  swine.  The  ripest  and  most  advanced  is  sent  at  once  to 
market,  while  the  least  matured  is  retained  for  future  disposal. 
The  peach  crops  form  a  very  important  item  in  the  staples  of 
New  Jersey  produce,  and  its  evanescent,  susceptible  nature  ren- 
ders it  an  object  of  anxious  solicitude  to  the  thrifty  farmer,  who 
combines  in  this  case  the  twofold  practice  of  an  orchardist  and 
husbandman. 

It  is  scarcely  worth  while  to  trespass  on  the  time  of  the 
reader  in  following  the  peaches  to  market,  and  from  thence  to 
the  tables  of  all  classes  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  various  districts 
of  the  republic ;    suffice  it  to  say,  that  their  cheapness  enables 
the  very  poorest  to  enjoy  their  evening  saucer  of  sliced  peaches 
and  milk,  and,  for  a  month  or  two  in  the  latter  part  of  the  sum- 
mer, puddings  and  pies  of  this  delightful  fruit  are  quite  the 
mode.     The  scenes  at  the  market  are  often  of  a  really  grotesque 
character.     As  far  as  the  eye  can  reach  tens  of  thousands  of 
baskets  are  piled,  one  upon  another,  and  guards  are  stationed  to 
protect  them  from  the  depredations  of  the  urchins,  who  flock 
about  in  troops,  watching  every  opportunity,  during  the  inatten- 
tion of  the  guard,  to  cram  their  pockets.     Frequently,  when 
detected,  a  chase  takes  place,  and  the  boys,  not  particular  to 
what  quarter  they  bend  their  flight,  so  that  they  can  escape  well 
loaded  with  the  "  stolen  joys,"  scramble  over  the  baskets,  upset- 
ting the  peaches,  and  causing  them  to  scatter  and  roll  about  like 
an  infinitude  of  little  red  balls  chasing  each  other  on  a  cricket 
ground.     Away  they  fly — boys,  peaches,  and  policeman — and  as 
the  contest  depends  upon  the  fleetncss  of  the  pursued  and  the 
nimbleness  of  the  pursuers,  it  can  scarcely  be  set  down  whether 
the  young  knaves  escape  to  munch  the  mellow  spoils,  or  are 
gallanted  to  the  magistrate's  office  to  await  an  impeachment  (not 
intended  for  a  pun),  for  the  fraudulent  appropriation  of  property, 
set  down  in  the  statutes  as  gross  and  illegal. 


106 


DASHES    OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 


The  prices  of  the  fruit  fluctuate.  During  the  month  of  July 
the  first  quality  usually  commands  seventy-five  cents  (equal  to 
three  shillings  sterling)  per  basket,  and,  at  the  height  of  the 
season,  it  is  as  low  as  ten  cents.  Cases  have  been  known,  during 
a  highly  prolific  year,  when  the  farmers  have  been  willing  to 
dispose  of  it  at  almost  any  price — a  mere  song,  as  the  saying 
goes,  and  many  a  basket  of  beautiful  fruit  has  gone  its  way  for 
five  cents.  Gallons  and  gallons  of  jam  are  prepared  during 
these  fruitful  periods,  for  exportation ;  and  even  with  this  pro- 
visional adaptation  of  the  fruit,  much  of  it  goes  to  waste  and 
decay. 

As  long  as  the  season  lasts  the  streets  and  thoroughfares 
abound  with  peach  stones,  which  are  gathered  by  the  boys,  tho 
kernels  of  which  they  sell,  for  a  trifling  sum  per  hundred,  to  the 
chemists  and  confectioners.  So  it  will  be  seen  that  the  peaches 
are  no  mean  matter  in  the  sum  total  of  American  fruit,  both 
for  quality  and  quantity ;  and  we  cannot  close  this  somewhat 
rambling  sketch  with  a  better  design  than  wishing  they  were 
equally  cheap,  plentiful,  and  delicious  in  Great  Britain. 


107 


"  PICTURESQUE  DRINKABLES. 


The  French  people  used  to  have  the  credit  of  inventing 
everything  pretty  and  fanciful ;  and  to  stroll  around  the  avenues 
of  the  Palais  Royal  and  glance  at  the  bewildering  medley  of 
grotesque  bijouterie  so  artfully  arranged  in  the  shop-windows, 
or  saunter  observantly  the  length  of  the  Boulevards  for  half- 
a-day,  one  would  be  willing  to  accede  the  justice  of  the  reputa- 
tion. But  however  France  may  pride  herself  on  her  flimsy 
whimsicalities  of  taste  in  mere  ornament,  the  United  States 
claims  a  consideration  for  her  liquescent  contribution  to  the 
great  Bazaar  of  Fancy.  "While  Paris  may  distance  all  com- 
petitors in  the  fashioning  of  capricious  solids,  New-York  stands 
out  boldly  for  her  display  of  fantastical  liquids.  In  eating, 
France  is  unquestionable ;  in  drinking,  America  is  on  the  top- 
most rung  of  the  ladder.  A  Parisian  pastrycook  has  more 
adroit  rules  of  moulding  meal  and  milk  than  the  imagination 
would  seem  to  suggest ;  and  a  Yankee  restaurateur  compre- 
hends the  infinitude  of  variety  and  kaleidoscopic  combination  of 
all  liquids. 

In  a  New- York  cafe  the  usual  programme  of  cherries,  cham- 
pagnes, burgundies,  hocks,  and  ports  will  be  found  at  all  sea- 
sons, with  their  more  fiery  neighbours,  the  brandies,  gins,  rums, 
and  similar  alcoholics — not  to  slightingly  omit  the  milder  edi- 
tions of  malt  pleasantries,  in  the  way  of  ales,  porters,  and  par- 
ticularly brown  stouts.  These  are  stand-byes  for  all  times  and 
all  seasons ;  but  when  the  roses  look  in  with  June,  and  the  col- 


108 


DASHES   OF    AMERICAN   HUMOR. 


lars  lie  over-moistened  in  July,  then  it  is  the  tribe  of  "  pictur- 
esque drinkables"  crowd  forward  for  consideration. 

The  liquor  list  is  hanging  on  yonder  fountain      We  will  read 
it— 

FELLOW-CITIZENS— PRAY  OBSERVE. 


Mint  Juleps. 

Sherry  Cobblers. 

.Brandy  Smashes. 

Snow-Storms. 

Peach-Tinulers. 

Zkitivkixas. 

&c,  &c. 


Iced  Punch. 

Shebbeet. 

Chain  Lightning 

(Very  cool). 

Lip-Freezers. 

Boa  Noqg. 

&c,  &c. 


Orangeade. 

Mineral  Water 

(Twenty  Syrups). 

'•Tom  and  Jbbry." 

■•  Widow's  Ti 

"Young  Men's  I>eeiuut.?' 

&&,  &C. 


The  "Mint  Julep"  is  the  most  fashionable  drink  of  the  sum- 
mer season;  and  when  the  large  goblet  is  diamonded  with  bits 
of  ice,  that  rise  like  a  miniature  Alpine  glacier  with  a  coquet- 
tish forest  of  mint  garnishing  the  side,  and  the  summits  crowned 
with  a  couple  of  rosy  strawberries,  the  appearance)  to  begin  with, 
is  hugely  fascinating  in  warm  weather.  The  "  Sherry  Cobbler," 
composed,  as  its  name  expresses,  of  sherry  gratefully  blended 
with  saccharino,  or  liquidated  rock-candy  and  ice,  ranks  in  pop- 
ularity next  to  the  juleps.  Both  are  imbibed  through  straws  or 
glass  tubes  kept  for  the  purpose.  The  "  Brandy  Smashes," 
"  Peach  Tinglers,"  "  Snow-storms,"'  "  Widow's  Tears,"  and 
"  Iced  Punch,"  all  claim  their  share  of  attention;  and  delight- 
fully cool,  grateful,  and  satisfactory,  they  are  to  the  tutored  pal- 
ate. These  drinks  are  ingeniously  modified  from  each  other ; 
as,  for  example,  a  Snow-storm  would  be  a  close  cut  between  a 
Cobbler  and  a  "  Lip-freezer,"  with  the  addition  of  a  quantity 
of  shaved  ice  crumbled  on  a  carpenter's  plane.  Lemon-peel 
and  spice  would  play  important  parts  in  an  Iced  Punch ;  while 
"  Chain  Lightning"  and  "  Zephyrinas"  would  shake  hands  and 
settle  down  into  a  "  Young  Man's  Delight." 

The  ornamental  and  light  icy  coolness  of  these  draughts  make 
them  especially  acceptable  when  the  mercury  of  the  thermom- 


"picturesque  drinkables."  109 

eter  is  desperately  on  the  rise.  A  warm  negus  and  a  hot  "  go" 
of  brandy,  that  Englishmen  enjoy  on  a  steaming  July  day,  are 
"  dead  letters"  during  the  warm  months  on  'tother  side  of  the 
Atlantic.  An  American  would  as  soon  think  of  refreshing  him- 
self at  this  season  with  a  smoking  mixture  as  forswear  his  coun- 
try and  dissolve  the  Union.  But  give  him  a  sparkling  mound 
of  ice,  a  bunch  of  fresh  green  mint  with  its  "  golden  fragrance," 
half  a  dozen  ripe,  round  lemons,  and  a  jorum  of  the  ardent, 
and  he  would  experience  no  special  difficulty  in  building  up  an 
afternoon's  conviviality. 

We  have  often  observed  in  the  pleasure-grounds  of  Kew,  Rich- 
mond, Hampton,  and  other  places  of  rustic  resort,  certain  jolly 
old  gentlemen  happy  in  the  possession  of  huge  tumblers  of  reeking 
hot  spirits ;  and  a  glance  at  then-  oozing  rubicund  faces  made 
us  regret  they  did  not  better  comprehend  the  art  of  enjoyment 
— as  found  in  summer  drinks.  Instead  of  being  receptacles  of 
boiling  infusions,  how  much  more  refrigerative  and  satisfactory 
would  they  find  iced  preparations  of  light  wines  a  la  American. 
But  chacun  d  son  gout — and  then  the  value  of  ice  in  the  two 
countries  is  a  commercial  consideration  not  to  be  lost  sight  of 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  gratefulness  of  these  fanciful 
drinks,  or,  as  we  once  heard  a  temperance  fanatic  term  them, 
"  Spirit-demons  in  holiday  disguises,"  tends  greatly  to  the  sys- 
tem of  early  drinking  prevalent  in  the  United  States.  The 
eleven-o'clock-in-the-morning  julep  with  the  lunch  of  the  cafe  is  a 
received  fact,  and  not  confined  to  an  exclusive  circle.  Young 
men  in  the  incipiency  of  their  teens,  caught  by  the  delicacy  of 
these  ingenious  draughts,  learn  to  quaff  deeply  and  freely  before 
manhood  has  determined  the  strength  of  their  physical  consti- 
tution— and  here  may  lie  the  only  pernicious  effect  arising  from 
the  palatableness  of  the  conventional  beverages  of  the  country. 

An  American  cafe,  or,  more  properly,  "  drinking-house" — for 
uulike  the  French  cafes,  coffee  and  tea  are  not  served  in  the 
general  saloon — is  appointed  in  the  most  tasteful  style  of  art. 


110  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR: 

Behind  a  bar  of  grained  wood,  curled  maple,  rosewood,  or  orna- 
mented oak,  as  the  case  may  be,  the  top  of  which  is  ornamented 
with  a  slab  of  polished  marble,  are  arranged  a  procession  of  ela- 
borate cut-glass  decanters,  with  silver  labels  placed  on  each, 
denoting  the  contents.  Above  these  is  a  splendid  mirror  with 
an  arabesque  frame,  which  is  jauntily  protected  from  the  tarnish 
by  a  light  suit  of  yellow  gause.  In  the  centre  of  the  bar  rises 
a  miniature  fountain,  curiously  wrought,  that  never  wearies  of 
sending  forth  little  ribbons  of  rose-water  on  the  rich  petals  of 
charmingly-arranged  bouquets  that  perfume  the  air  for  many  feet 
around.  About  the  apartment  are  placed  lounges,  centre-tables 
scattered  with  the  periodical  news  of  the  day,  easy-chairs,  otto- 
mans, and  a  niche  or  two  may  boast  a  marble  intention  of  some- 
body notable  in  mythological  or  modern  heroics.  The  dainty- 
papered  walls  are  hung  with  oil-paintings  and  choice  engravings. 
In  this  latter  respect  many  of  the  saloons  are  desultory  picture- 
galleries  ;  and  not  a  few  Holbeins,  Snyders,  Corrcgios,  with 
here  and  there  a  Vandyke  and  Titian,  have  found  their  silent 
way  transatlantic-ward  to  adorn  the  Silenian  haunts  of  Ameri- 
can revellers.  Many  of  the  hotel-keepers  display  much  tasto 
and  some  artistic  knowledge  in  their  pictorial  collections  and 
museums  of  virtu.  Others,  again,  line  their  walls  with  ill- 
executed  portraits  aud  indifferent  subjects,  merely  for  the  sake 
of  an  exhibition  of  ornament  regarded  essential  in  establish- 
ments of  this  sort. 

The  system  of  serving  liquor  in  America  is  regulated  differ- 
ently from  Great  Britain.  A  barmaid,  to  begin  with,  would  bo 
a  rara  avis  in  the  young  country ;  and  therefore,  instead  of 
having  your  "  call"  apportioned  by  a  wholesome  specimen  of 
feminine  plumptitude  in  bright  ringlets,  the  decanter  is  placed 
before  you,  .and  the  quantum  regulated  by  your  own  sense  of 
gentlemanlike  prudence.  But  what  answers  in  one  part  of  the 
world  will  not  do  in  another ;  especially  where  the  gentle  pres- 
sure of  taxes  regulates  habit. 


Ill 

There  is  a  certain  cosiness  and  domesticity  noticeable  in  an 
English  bar — especially  in  the  country — that  one  never  finds  in 
America.  Taps,  mugs,  and  Barclay  and  Perkins's  assurances 
are  supplanted  by  "  sticks,"  "  flies,"  and  silver  goblets.  Instead 
of  a  comfortable  young  woman  in  balzorine,  we  find  a  dapper 
young  man  in  his  shirt-sleeves,  as  brisk  as  a  bee,  and  all  smiles 
and  activity. 

In  point  of  fact,  an  American  bar-keeper  is  a  genius  of  his 
own  class.  He  is  generally  a  smart,  personable  young  man, 
with  an  immense  predilection  for  very  white  linen  and  whiskers. 
The  arrangement  of  his  hair  is  a  great  consideration,  his  happi- 
ness much  depending  on  its  gloss  and  smoothness.  A  "  parting 
on  the  wrong  side"  would  rashly  endanger  his  equanimity  of 
mind,  while  a  deficiency  of  pomade  might  affect  the  serenity  of  his 
usual  temper  to  an  extraordinary  extent.  TVhat  traditional  rea- 
sons this  class  of  people  have  for  so  fondling  their  locks  we  con- 
fess an  entire  ignorance.  The  bar-keeper  comes  from  the  middle 
ranks  of  life,  and  is  of  an  observant  turn  of  mind ;  his  occupa- 
tion gives  him  a  physiognomical  knowledge  of  faces,  and  he  has 
a  happy  faculty  of  distinguishing  between  the  man  that  "  one 
glass  more  would  not  hurt,"  and  "  the  man  that  has  just  had 
enough."  He  reads  at  a  glance  the  outlines  of  the  confirmed 
toper,  and  the  mere  amateur  of  imbibition.  He  can  tell  with 
sybilline  prescience  whether  a  man  is  "  completely  broke,"  or  if 
he  has  a  few  sixpences  left  for  dram  indulgence.  In  a  word, 
there  exists  a  psychological  understanding  between  the  bar- 
keeper and  his  patron,  the  minute  shadows  of  which  none  but 
an  adept  of  vast  experience  can  fathom. 

And  the  bar-keeper  is  a  dashing,  convivial  fellow  "  out  of 
business."  He  dresses  in  fast  colours,  frequently  keeps  a  fast 
horse,  and  is  much  courted  by  the  young  men  on  town.  He  is 
sure  to  be  addressed  as"  Bob,"  or  "  Charley,"  or  "  Tom,  "with 
an  affect ionateness  of  tone  and  manner  that  indicates  exquisite 
familiarity.     It  is  one  of  his  inviolable  practices  out  never  to 


112  DASHES    OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

let  anybody  pay  for  a  drink  but  himself,  and  he  thereby  gains 
the  reputation  of  a  "  first-rate  good-hearted  fellow" — in  fact  one 
of  those  men  that  "  you  could  do  anything  in  the  world  for," 
his  liberality — nay,  prodigality — is  so  captivating.  No  matter 
how  large  the  concourse  of  drinkers,  he  "  stands  the  shot" — 
the  sympathy  between  his  hand  and  his  pocket  is  so  great. 

It  is  in  these  "picturesque  concoctions"  that  the  bar-keeper 
displays  his  peculiar  skill.  He  can  grasp  two  tumblers  in  either 
hand,  and  artfully  maintain  a  pair  of  streams  without  the  loss 
of  a  drop,  or  the  slightest  confusion.  If  he  chooses  to  elaborate 
his  dexterity,  he  can  toss  the  streams  behind  his  back  from  one 
tumbler  to  another  with  a  miraculousness  and  nicety,  of  which 
it  is  thought  only  jugglers  are  capable.  He  minces  a  lemon  as 
perfectly  as  Louis  Quatorze  is  said  to  have  executed  a  pirou 
and  spins  a  goblet  with  superhuman  confidence  when  the  brittle- 
ness  of*  the  article  in  question  is  duly  considered. 

We  are  wandering.  Revenons  d  nos  ?nouto?isy  as  the  French 
advocate  expressed  it.  So  to  get  back  to  the  "  fancy  drinkables," 
it  is  curious  how  an  American  misses  them  when  travelling 
abroad.  To  conjure  up  the  spirit  of  a  julep  in  a  distant  coun- 
try is  a  favourite  expression  ;  and  as  the  sound  of  the  Ranz-de- 
vache  was  said  to  have  affected  the  Swiss  shepherds  in  a  foreign 
land,  so  does  the  recollection  of  a  "  sherry  cobbler"  produce  a 
most  inordinate  longing  when  away  from  home. 

To  illustrate  : 

We  once  met  in  Geneva,  sitting  in  the  gardens  under  the 
very  shadow  of  a  statue  of  Rousseau,  a  young  man  who  boasted 
of  being  an  immense  traveller.  The  blue  water  of  the  Rhone 
— or,  as  Byron  calls  it,  the  "  river-child"  of  the  lake — was 
mingling  its  waters  with  its  "  delightful  paient" — the  Alps  on 
one  side,  and  the  peaks  of  the  Jura  on  the  other,  rose  majesti- 
cally to  view — a  golden  haze  was  stealing  along  the  horizon — 
and,  not  to  grow  unnecessarily  poetical,  every  object  around 
formed  a  scene  of  grandeur  and  beauty.  Our  friend  gazed 
curiously  about  him,  and  turning,  said — 


113 

u  This  is  a  grand  sight,  I  must  say."  .. 

We  concurred. 

"  The  lake's  as  clear  as  crystal,  and  delightfully  calm." 

"  Charming." 

"  Those  cloud-wreaths  about  the  Alps  almost  inspire  one." 

u  I  can  easily  imagine  it." 

"  There  is  no  question  of  it.  This  is  one  of  the  sweetest, 
calmest  views  in  the  world ;  and  I  only  want  one  thing  now  to 
make  me  perfectly  happy." 

"  What's  that !"  we  inquired. 

"  A  well-iced  sherry  cobbler  !" 

Bearing  in  mind  the  quantity  of  sour  wine  the  aforesaid 
person  had  drunk  during  his  stay  at  Geneva,  we  did  not  so 

much  marvel  at  the  ridiculousness  of  the  request. 

*  #  #  # 

Although  American  ladies,  as  a  general  rule,  set  their  faces 
against  liquor,  no  matter  how  ingeniously  commingled  or  intro- 
duced, yet  at  evening  parties  or  pic-nics,  the  cobblers,  if  made 
mild  in  taste  and  magnificent  in  ornament,  forego  excommuni- 
cation. Three  or  four  of  the  "  dear  creatures"  love  to  select 
long  firm  straws,  and  joining  their  little  white  foreheads  until 
the  tumbler  has  a  perfect  canopy  of  curls,  all  sip  at  one  time 
through  the  slender  tubes — now  sipping,  now  chatting,  now 
laughing.  Merely  for  the  occasion,  we  will  call  one  Fanny, 
another  Sue,  the  third  Blanche,  and  Lisette  the  last  of  the 
group.  Fanny  and  Sue  are  cousins,  perhaps — perhaps  not — 
but  certain  it  is,  the  former  expresses  herself  warmly  in  favour 
of  the  julep  before  them. 

"  Grirls,  I  dont  care  what  you  say,"  for  Fanny  has  a  little 
positive  will  of  her  own ;  "  that  is  what  I  call  particularly  good. 
What  do  you  think,  Lisette  ?" 

Lisette,  who  has  extremely  long  eyelashes,  and  a  pair  of  red 
lips  of  voluptuous  expression,  replies  that  "  she  must  agree  as 
to  its  palatableness  " 


114        *  DASHES    OF   AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

"  My  respected  ma  says  it's  very  bad  for  young  people,"  says 
Blanche,  with  the  corners  of  her  mouth  contracted  5  "  but  on 
this  occasion  I  humbly  beg  leave  to  differ  with  her." 

"  I  like  it  better  than  water-ice.  infinitely,"  says  Sue,  taking 
a  long  sip  and  a  long  breath  alternately.  "  It  makes  me  as 
lively  and  full  of  spirits  as  a  dose  of  ether." 

"  Well,  girls,  shall  we  have  one  more — just  one  more  ?"  pro- 
poses Fanny.     "  Two  among  four  of  us  is  nothing." 

"  If  you  are  sure  it  won't  get  in  our  heads,"  remarks  Lisette. 

"  Get  in  our  heads  !  Ha !  ha !  ha  !"  laughs  Blanche.  "  Tho 
idea — dreadful — ha  ! "  ha  !  You  might  as  well  wonder  whether 
it'll  get  in  our  boots.     Ha  !  ha  !" 

And  then  the  group  chatter  and  giggle.  Blanche  tickles 
Lisette  with  her  straw  while  her  head  is  averted,  and  then  asks 
her,  with  a  wicked  innocence  of  face,  whether  the  flics  are  trou- 
blesome. She  has  a  delightfully  tiny  wheaten  combat  with 
Fanny,  and  ends  it  by  affecting  to  receive  a  mortal  wound  in 
the  ringlet.  At  length  the  fresh  cobbler  arrives,  embellished 
with  new  straws,  and  soon  four  darling  pairs  of  lips  are  indus- 
trious in  a  small  way,  with  the  occasional  variation  of  a  droll 
exclamation,  and  the  inquiry — 

"  Dear  me,  isn't  it  nice  V 


115 


WHAT  CAME  OF  A  RUFFLED  SHIRT. 

AN    ADVENTURE. 


While  resting  in  San  Francisco,  after  the  toils  of  an  arduous 
route  from  Panama,  over  hill  and  mountain,  covered  with  every 
variety  of  luxuriant  growth,  I  was  induced  by  a  friend — an  old 
schoolmate,  and  as  brave  a  fellow  as  ever  sought  fortune  in  a 
far-off  country — to  join  him  in  a  trip  up  the  American  River, 
and  pay  a  flying  visit  to  the  mines.  I  had  grown  weary  of  the 
dullness  of  the  California  capital,  and,  therefore,  did  not  require 
much  persuasion  to  fly  the  motley  metropolis,  and  seek  new 
adventures  among  the  treasure-seekers,  knowing  well,  that  if  I 
were  not  too  easily  prostrated  by  the  intensity  of  the  climate 
and  the  wildness  of  the  country,  I  should  certainly  experience 
changes  that  might  in  somewise  administer  to  an  innate  16 ve  of 
novelty.  We  tucked  what  apparel  we  wanted  in  a  brace  of 
stout  carpet-bags,  and  attiring  ourselves  in  coarse  suits  of 
deer-skin,  set  off  with  a  cavalcade  consisting  of  three  heavily- 
laden  wagons  drawn  by  twelve  oxen,  accompanied  by  five 
horsemen,  and  the  same  number  of  pedestrians,  all  of  whom 
chanced  to  be  going  our  way. 

If  there  is  one  thing  more  than  another  in  this  singular  coun- 
try that  may  be  regarded  as  an  oddity,  it  is  a  white  shirt.  Not 
that  shirts  in  themselves  are  oddities — by  no  means — but  it  is 
that  particular  colour,  or  no  colour,  as  the  reader  may  choose. 
|  An  abundance  of  striped  patterns — blue,  brown,  yellow,  pink, 
orange,  red,  and  even  purple  arc  seen,  but  rarely  such  a  thing 
as  a  distinct  white.    I  frequently  saw  a  shirt  that  had  once  been 


116  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

white;  but  long  before  it  reached  the  El  Dorado,  it  had 
resigned  all  pretensions  to  its  primitive  purity.  My  friend, 
Tom  Bruce,  being  a  singular  genius,  the  day  of  our  departure, 
out  of  some  eccentric  whim,  put  on  a  clean  white  shirt.  The 
collar  was  starched  to  the  extreme  of  stiffness,  the  bosom  ruffled 
in  the  most  unexceptionable  mode,  and,  by  way  of  finish,  the 
wristbands  were  laced  and  fine-stitched  to  a  degree  faultless. 
Tom  looked  a  Beau  Brummel  in  this  dainty  vesture. 

"  Why  Tom,"  said  I,  eyeing  him  with  an  expression  of  curi- 
osity, "  what  does  all  of  this  mean?'3  and  I  pointed  at  the 
elegant  garment  aforesaid. 

"  Oh,  never  mind,"  returned  he,  "  I've  a  strange  whim.  I 
was  looking  over  my  duds  this  morning,  and  what  did  I  find 
but  this  fine  shirt.  It's  one  I  had  made  to  go  to  a  number  of 
club  balls  last  winter  in  New-York,  when  1   was  paying  my 

devoirs  to  little  Nolly  V ;  but  no  matter,  I'm  agoing  to 

wear  it  just  for  luck,  as  we  Q-othamites  say.  and  sec  what  it 
brings.  Mark  my  words  now.  and  I'll  bet  you  a  dime  that  this 
very  shirt  at  which  you  gaze  will  get  us  out  of  a  fix  before  we 
get  home." 

I  laughed  at  Tom's  words ;  and  as  the  garment  of  the  same 
class  that  I  wore  was  a  yellow  ground,  ornamented  here  and 
there  with  what  had  been  intended  to  represent  pointed  poplar 
trees,  but  which  in  reality  looked  more  like  pinched  pickles, 
from  the  fact  of  their  being  shapeii  to  the  quaintest  extreme, 
like  that  popular  condimental  vegetable — why,  the  contrast  was 
to  an  extraordinary  degree  grotesque  and  impressive. 

Tom's  shirt  was  the  point  of  every  inquiring  gaze.  The  mas- 
ter-teamster, a  red-haired  Englishman,  who  had  emigrated  from 
somewhere  in  the  neighbourhood  of  "  Brummagem,"  as  he 
called  it,  was  so  struck  with  it  that  he  liked  to  have  opened  his 
eye-gates  to  accommodate  a  flood  of  tears,  so  forcibly  did  it  re- 
mind him  of  one  which  his  master,  a  greengrocer,  had  worn  "  at 
home"  on  holidays  and  great  occasions. 


WHAT    CAME    OF    A   RUFFLED    SHIRT.  117 

We  had  not  proceeded  more  than  a  "  bluetrail,"  as  they  term 
ten  miles  in  that  country,  than  we  struck  into  a  beaten  road  to 
the  north-east,  and  were  full  upon  the  prairie.  Here  we  met  a 
party  of  Kanakas  going  home  to  Honalula,  and  for  a  trifle  I 
purchased  a  pack-mare,  on  which  Tom  and  myself  rode  alter- 
nately. This  animal  was  the  most  perfect  realization  of  stub- 
bornness— a  pig  was  docile  to  her — and  we  were  sorry  we  had 
meddled  with  a  beast  so  unworthy  of  even  humane  consideration. 
The  more  we  petted  her,  the  more  she  exhibited  her  headstrong 
contumaciousness.  If  she  was  required  to  go  to  the  right,  she  was 
sure  to  incline  to  the  left ;  and  if  there  was  a  wagon-rut  in  the 
path  there  was  no  help  for  her  stumbling  over  it,  Tom  would 
mount  her  and  take  the  carpet-bags,  while  I  walked  behind  and 
used  the  gad,  as  I  had  seen  the  Mexican  vaquero  do  ;  but  this 
was  no  avail ;  she  only  reared  on  her  fore-legs  and  threw  up  the 
dirt  in  our  faces  with  her  hind  ones  in  derision  of  our  efforts. 
Then  Tom  would  descend,  and  I  would  take  his  place ;  he  had 
a  sinewy  arm,  and  would  "lay  On"  to  the  fullest  of  his  strength, 
but  it  availed  nothing.  Then  we  would  both  walk,  and  swing- 
ing the  carpet-bags  over  her  d  la  panniers,  like  virtuous  wood- 
cutters in  the  olden  time,  we  besought  our  beast  of  burden  to 
advance,  much  to  the  amusement  of  every  species  of  nation  that 
we  passed  on  our  road. 

I  have  read  in  "  Ye  Chronicles  of  Mcrrie  England"  of  sun- 
dry racks  and  tortures,  invented  by  certain  wicked  men,  and 
concealed  in  subterranean  passages  under  a  well-known  edifice, 
called  the  "  Tower  of  London,"  where  Anne  Boleyn  and  other 
notable  persons  have  left  their  heads  at  certain  bye-gone  periods; 
and  although  my  usually  amiable  nature  revolts  at  anything  in 
the  shape  of  punishment,  yet  I  freely  confess  that  if  I  could 
have  applied  the  severest  of  these  tortures  to  that  mare,  I 
should  not  have  hesitated  a  moment  to  do  so.  The  nursery 
story  of  the  old  woman  who  invoked  the  aid  of  a  certain  stick 
to  beat  her  pig,  and  because  the  stick  refused  to  perform  such 


118  DASHES   OF    AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

an  office,  was  finally  consumed  by  fire,  is  not  a  parallel  with  our 
case,  pre-eminent  as  that  celebrated  nursery  incident  may 
appear  in  confirming  the  fact  of  animal  obstinacy  Our  cortege 
had  got  so  far  ahead  of  us  from  the  delays,  that  we  slipped  the 
mare's  bridle  over  her  head,  and  walked  in  advance  of  her.  Then 
only,  and  on  such  conciliating  terms  of  compromise,  would  she 
condescend  to  be  guided  by  us. 

"  Well,  curse  me  !"  said  Tom,  finally,  after  exercising  every 
spark  of  his  ingenuity  to  induce  the  creature  to  carry  one  of 
us — she  would  bear  me  longer  than  Tom,  because  he  was  the 
heavier  of  the  two — and  throwing  back  his  sun-burnt  sombrero 
with  the  air  of  a  man  deeply  perplexed,  with  just  a  shade  of 
mortification  resting  on  his  brow — "  Well,  curse  me  !  if  that 
mare  wouldn't  astonish  the  Browns,  and  they  say  that  nothing 
surprises  that  numerous  family.  You  may  depend  on  it  - 
been  trained  to  this  mryiclding  stubbornness.  Would'nt  I  like 
to  have  her  harnessed  to  a  bark  mill  in  Pennsylvania.  Pi  ; 
she  would  not  work  then.  Perhaps  not,  or  I'd  take  the  hide 
from  her  as  close  as  a  nutshell.     Come  along." 

"  By  the  bye,"  suggested  I,  "  we  have  not  given  the  dragon  a 
name.  Is  there  any  precedent  in  nature,  mythology,  or  any- 
where else,  for  the  matter  of  that,  to  out-do  this  wretched  beast  ? 
Think,  Tom,  think.  When  we  first  bought  her,  I  thought  of 
calling  her  '  Bess,'  but  the  name  is  too  musical  by  far,  is  it  not  ?" 

"  Bess  !"  quoth  Tom,  in  a  positive  rage — his  eyes  dilating  as 
he  dragged  the  beast  with  a  smart  jerk — "  Bess,  I  think  you 
said.  I  wouldn't  disgrace  the  name  by  applying  it  to  such  a 
surly,  perverse  specimen  of  female  horse-flesh  ;"  and  the  mare  at 
this  moment  relaxing  her  rein,  stopped  to  browse  on  a  tuft  of 
long  rank  grass  which  overtopped  a  spring.  "  Hey  !  get  out  of 
that,  you  old  jade  !  Come  'long  !"  and  he  pulled  the  rein  with 
such  a  quick  snap  that,  half  frightened  out  of  her  wits,  she 
iumped  forward  and  ambled  as  prettily  as  could  be  for  a  short 
distance. 


WHAT    CAME    OF    A    RUFFLED    SHIRT.  119 

li  Well,  Tom,  have  you  thought  of  a  name  for  her  ?"  said  I, 
after  a  few  moments  had  elapsed.  Tom  held  his  head  down,  and 
appeared  to  be  brooding  over  our  mutual  vexation,  and  did  not 
hear  my  question.  I  repeated  it.  He  started  slightly,  as  if  dis- 
turbed from  a  reverie. 

"  I've  just  been  thinking.1'  said  he  in  a  half-musing  manner, 
of  a  match  for  this  varmint ;  and  he  took  the  gad  from  my 
hand,  and  turning  around,  gave  her  a  cordial  salute  over  her 
haunches  as  he  spoke.  "  It  puzzles  me  to  the  extremest  to  think 
of  a  proper  name.  Diogenes  was  a  cynical  old  scamp,  but  that's 
a  masculine  name,  and  then  he  had  some  good  traits  to  admire. 
Xantippe,  the  wife  of  Socrates,  was  a  Tartar,  but  then  she 
could'nt  have  been  so  completely  lost  to  all  feeling.  Let  me 
see,  who  else  is  there  ?  Oh,  if  is  time  thrown  away  to  think. 
Let  us  call  her  '  Hag,'  simply  '  Hag.'  and  be  hanged  to  her." 

"  Be  it  so,"  rejoined  I,  in  accordance. 

And  "  Hag"  was  the  animal's  name  from  that  moment. 

The  first  day  of  our  journey  up  the  river  was  over  a  soil  of 
deep  fine  sand,  slightly  mixed  with  loam.  We  passed  a  number 
of  private  ranchos,  the  property  of  early  settlers.  The  river, 
for  many  miles,  was  only  forty  or  fifty  feet  from  us,  and  at  in- 
tervals it  flashed  on  our  view  in  the  bright  sunlight,  dazzling 
our  gaze ;  then  it  gracefully  receded,  and  was  lost,  as  it  were, 
in  a  gentle  declivity,  when  presently  it  reappeared,  brighter  and 
more  magnificent  than  before.  The  current  varies;  in  some 
places  it  is  as  placid  and  serene  as  a  lake,  while  in  others  it 
dashes  along  with  a  force  madly  impetuous.  The  spring  floods 
were  not  yet  at  their  greatest  height,  and  the  stream  appeared 
only  a  few  yards  in  width ;  yet  the  overhanging  banks,  which 
jutted  far  over,  and  seemed  to  kiss  the  water's  edge,  bore  un- 
mistakeable  evidences  of  the  manner  in  which  they  had  resisted 
the  furious  career  of  the  wild  tides. 

Night  gradually  stole  upon  us,  and  our  commander-in-chief 
ordered  a  halt.     Our  place  of  encampment  was  a  hollow  between 


120  DASHES    OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

two  slightly  rising  knolls,  which  my  companion,  Tom,  christened, 
u  First  Night's  Nest" — they  have  queer  names  in  California, — 
and  his  fiat  was  respectfully  marked,  although  he  was  not  the 
discoverer,  certain  traces  of  ash-heaps  and  broken  crockery  giv- 
ing assurance  that  there  had  been  visitors  there  before  us.  Our 
next  care  was  to  procure  wood  to  feed  the  camp  fires,  and  Tom 
and  myself  were  deputed  to  assist  in  the  important  search.  We 
held  a  consultation. 

"  What  do  you  say — shall  we  take  the  marc  with  us  or  not?" 
inquired  I  of  Tom,  who  stood  surveying  the  creature  in  ques- 
tion with  his  arms  folded. 

"  To  the  fiends  with  her  !"  roared  my  companion,  "  she'll  keep 
us  back  ;"  and  he  had  not  more  than  uttered  this  laconic  observ* 
ation  than,  prancing  on  her  fore-feet  with  almost  superhuman 
agility,  the  mare  threw  up  such  huge  daubs  of  mud  that  one 
alighting  on  his  peerless  shirt-front,  garnished  it  in  the  highest 
possible  style. 

"Ha!  ha!  ha!"  and  everybody  that  witnessed  the  sudden 
caper  echoed  the  eachinnatory  gust,  ••  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  !" 

Tom  did  not  say  a  Word,  but  picking  up  a  sycamore  twig, 
coolly  commenced  scraping  oil'  the  dirt.  A  storm  then  grew  on 
my  friend's  brow,  and  approaching  me,  he  said,  in  a  tone  of 
voice  that  indicated  the  most  malignant  anger,  M  What  did  you 
pay  for  that  mare  ?" 

I  named  the  amount. 

"  Will  you  sell  her  to  me  for  the  same  sum  ?" 

u  Why.  Tom,  what  are  you  a-going  to  do  ?  Not  speculate  on 
her,  I  hope." 

"  Never  mind  ;  will  you  sell  her  ':'" 

I  smiled. 

Tom  continued,  "  if  you  will  sell  her  to  me,  I'll  shoot  her  on 
the  spot,  the  old  hussey."  He  glanced  at  his  shirt  bosom. 
"  Look  at  that !  Isn't  it  enough  to  make  a  nervous  man  trem- 
ble with  rage  ?' 


WHAT   CAME   OF    A    RUFFLED    SHIRT.  121 

I  ridiculed  the  fanciful  auger  of  poor  Tom,  and  be  was  soon 
dissuaded  from  his  purpose,  otherwise  he  would  have  bought 
the  provoking  animal  for  the  pleasure  of  dispatching  her  on  the 
spot. 

Staking  the  horses  and  oxen  to  the  rear  of  the  wagons,  with 
ample  hide  lariats,  we  marched  off  in  different  directions  to 
search  for  fagots.  Sufficient  being  procured,  we  lighted  our 
camp-fires,  while  others  unpacked  the  wagons  and  brought  forth 
the  provisions.  Salt  pork  and  hard  crackers  were  among  the 
luxuries  of  our  supper ;  but,  rough  as  the  fare  was,  the  day's 
journey  made  these  deliriously  welcome.  Our  commander-in- 
chief,  a  stout  round-shouldered  hoosier,  from  one  of  the  far 
west  States,  proposed  that  we  should  retire  early,  and  resume 
our  march  by  day-break,  to  which  the  greater  part  of  the  com- 
pany agreed,  and  disposing  themselves  in  coarse  blankets,  were 
soon  wedding  slumber  in  the  most  approved  fashion  of  gold 
adventurers. 

As  the  depredations  of  the  coyotes,  or  prairie  wolves,  are  fre- 
quent, Tom  and  myself,  although  we  were  both  weary,  signified 
our  intentions  to  our  leader  to  keep  watch  that  night,  and, 
without  a  word,  we  were  chosen  sentinels. 

It  was  a  bright,  clear  night,  and  the  moon  in  unclouded 
splendour  riding  in  a  sky  altogether  Italian,  beamed  on  every 
object  with  such  soft  brilliancy,  that  we  could  define  the  distance 
for  miles  around.  With  the  exception  of  the  waving  of  the 
giant  grass  that  grew  profusely  in  all  directions,  the  snoring  of 
the  men,  and  the  occasional  restlessness  of  the  oxen  as  they 
tugged  at  their  lariats,  all  around  was  wrapped  in  the  most 
inspiring  stillness.  Making  a  circuit  of  our  little  camp,  we 
found  everything  secure,  and  couching  on  two  large  stones 
beside  the  blazing  fagots,  that  sent  up  a  red  mass  of  smoke  and 
sparkles  high  into  the  air,  Tom  fell  to  humming  an  old  melody 
that  he  said  reminded  him  so  much  of  home.  Soon  after,  he 
did  not  say  a  word,  but  rested  his  eyes  on  the  glowing  embers, 


122  DASHES   OF    AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

and  seemed  absorbed  iu  meditation.  Not  caring  to  disturb  him 
from  his  reverie,  I  followed  his  example,  and  gradually  my 
thoughts  reverted  to  my  pleasant  home,  and  the  many  happy 
associations  connected  with  it  As  the  air  was  keen  and 
searching,  I  pulled  my  blanket  closer  around  me,  and  resting 
my  elbows  on  my  knees,  fell  into  a  gentle  doze.  I  had  not  been 
long  in  this  position  before  I  was  startled  by  Tom's  making  a 
desperate  leap,  as  if  pursued  by  a  wolf. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?"  cried  I.  coining  to  my  feet  as  suddenly 
as  the  alarm  warranted  the  movement.  "  Tom,  what  made  you 
start  ?" 

My  companion  merely  replied  by  putting  his  finger  on  hi-< 
lip,  and  the  next  instant  drew  a  revolving  pistol  from  his  hug*? 
belt. 

"Hush  !"  whispered  he,  in  a  faint  tone,  tucking  the  folds  of 
his  blanket  in  his  breast;  "I'm  sure  I  saw  a  man  skulking 
around  the  provision  wagon!  Hush!*'  I  had  neglected  to 
take  my  weapon  from  my  oarpet  bag,  but  seizing  a  heayy  brand 
from  the  fire,  stood  side  by  side  of  my  companion,  in  an  attitude 
of  defence. 

"I  fancy  you're  mistaken,"  Baid  I.  "  STou've  been  dream- 
ing. Listen,  there's  scarcely  a  leaf  stirring.  You  must  be 
deceived.'' 

"  No,"  replied  Torn,  as  before,  in  a  quiet  whisper,  '•  I'll  be 
sworn  I  saw  the  figure  of  a  man  in  the  shadow  of  that  wagon. 
Come  with  me;"  and  drawing  me  gently  by  the  arm,  we  pro- 
ceeded to  the  place  where  lie  thought  he  had  seen  the  intruder. 

A  diligent  search  proving  fruitless,  we  again  seated  ourselves 
beside  the  fire,  which  was  gradually  dying  away,  and  wished 
with  all  of  our  hearts  that  the  morning  was  come,  with  its 
genial  sunlight,  to  disperse  the  mists  that  by  this  time  were  set- 
tling on  the  rolling  prairie. 

"  I  thought  you  were  wrong,"  said  I,  looking  around  on  all 
sides  over  the  vast  expanse  that  everywhere  met  my  gaze.    "  I'm 


WHAT    CAME    OF    A    RUFFLED    SHIRT-  123 

certain  that  if  any  of  the  Indians  were  on  our  trail  we  could 
see  them,  the  moon  is  so  bright  to-night." 

"  It  may  have  been  a  shadow,  a  spectre,  a  vision,  or  whatever 
you  like ;  but  I'm  as  certain  that  I  saw  something  as  I  see  this 
pistol  this  minute  before  me.  Besides,  you  don't  know  how 
these  red-skinned  devils  approach  travellers.  They  creep  through 
the  long  grass  on  their  hands  and  knees." 

A  cold  chill  ran  through  me  at  this  intelligence.  I  had  not 
thought  of  this  secret  mode  of  attack.  The  grass  being  ex- 
tremely long,  it  would  readily  conceal  the  body  of  a  full-grown 
man  in  a  stooping  posture.  Without  saying  another  word  I 
chastened  to  Hag,  and  took  my  pistols  from  the  carpet-bag. 
Just  then  we  both  started  at  the  same  instant. 

"  Don't  wake  the  men,  except  an  emergency  demands  it," 
whispered  Tcm,  cocking  his  weapon.  "  I  was  right ;  I  saw 
the  grass  move  by  the  large  wagon." 

Glancing  in  the  direction  referred  to  by  my  companion,  I 
perceived  the  long  herbage  parting  as  if  cleaved  by  a  body  of 
enormous  width.     It  was  a  moment  of  anxious  doubt. 

"  Who  goes  there  ?"  shouted  Tom,  in  a  gruff  voice,  pointing 
the  revolver,  the  barrel  of  which  gleamed  in  the  bright  moon- 
light. 

There  was  no  reply,  and  the  rustling  abated  for  a  moment. 

Tom  repeated  his  interrogation  in  a  more  decided  tone. 

"  Who  goes  there?     Answer,  or  I'll  fire  !" 

Again  the  demand  was  unheeded,  and  "  Hag,"  uttering  a 
dismal  bray,  sent  forth  a  scream  that  caused  even  the  sleepers  in 
the  wagons  to  turn  heavily  in  their  slumbers. 

"  Blast  that  beast  I"  hissed  Tom  between  his  teeth,  his  face 
assuming  the  wildest  concern ;  and  then  he  shrieked — "  Who 
goes  there,  I  say  again?  One  minute  more,  and  as  true  as 
Heaven  I'll  fire!" 

lie  kept  his  word,  and  before  the  time  he  had  given  the 
intruder  to  report  himself  transpired,  he  blazed  away  with  his 


124  DASHES    OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

revolver,  that  sent  such  a  shower  of  red-hot  balls  whizzing  into 
the  grass  as  c:  First  Night's  Nest"  has  never  witnessed  since. 

The  sleepers  at  the  first  fire  were  up  and  roused  to  action. 
Our  commander-in-chief  was  as  brave  as  a  lion,  and,  seizing 
his  carbine,  proceeded  to  examine  the  grass  with  the  utmost 
caution. 

"  Ah!"  he  exclaimed,  addressing  my  companion,  "  you  were 
right.  See  this ;"  and  stooping  he  picked  up  a  heavy  stiletto, 
the  sheath  of  which  was  covered  with  rust.  "  He  dropped  this 
in  his  fright,  whoever  he  was;  and  now  I'll  look  :"  and  he  read 
by  the  light  of  the  moon  a  number  of  Mexican  characters  en- 
graved on  the  hilt,  which  clearly  denoted  that  the  Spanish 
roamers  were  lurking  not  far  distant.  Our  commander  con- 
tinued— 

"  Let  every  man  get  out  his  weapons.  These  hounds  are  on 
our  trail,  and  he  whom  you  have  seen  is  a  Bpy  that  has  been 
sent  to  learn  our  movements.  I  have  crossed  this  route  before, 
and  unless  the  dogs  are  shown  battle,  tiny  will  f)ll.»w  as  to  the 
end  of  our  journey." 

Providing  ourselves  with  long  si  camore,  or  scraggy 

oak  boughs,  which  we  used  as  flambeaux,  weapons  coofced  in 
hand,  our  blankets  tucked  closely  into  our  girdles,  we  parted 
company,  and,  in  s  [uads  of  three,  scattered  over  the  vast 
prairie,  carefully  examining  the  tall  grass,  which  we  pushed 
aside  with  our  feet.  Three  men  were  left  to  guard  the  encamp- 
ment, and  in  case  of  surprise  from  any  quarter,  a  pistol  was  to 
be  fired  as  a  signal.  To:n,  myself,  and  the  red-haired  teamster 
composed  our  squad,  and  the  latter  individual  was  in  the 
greatest  possible  alarm  lest,  as  he  walked,  he  should  stumble 
over  the  "  henemy,"  to  use  his  own  expression.  His  knees 
trembled  under  him,  and  his  scattered  hair  falling  down  over 
his  dingy  unwashed  face,  his  eyes  at  the  same  time  starting 
from  their  sockets,  the  singularity  of  his  whole  appearance  was 
so  provokingly  odd,  that  even  at  this  moment,  beset  as  we  were 
by  danger,  neither  Tom  nor  myself  could  repress  a  smile. 


WHAT    CAME    OF    A   RUFFLED    SHIRT.  125 

"  By  gad !  vouldir  t  I  like  to  bo  in  Brummagem  just  about 
now,  with  the  kinchins  and  the  dame,"  said  the  man,  half 
frightened  out  of  his  wits  as  the  breeze  blew  a  spark  from  Tom's 
torch  in  his  face.     "  Was  that  a  shot  ?" 

It  was  a  glorious  spectacle  to  cast  the  eye  round  and  behold 
the  nickering  firebrands  gleaming  over  the  tops  of  the  tall 
grass.  As  for  as  the  eye  could  reach,  nothing  broke  the  view 
— not  a  tree  was  to  be  seen ;  and  except  here  and  there  that  a 
patch  of  fragrant  wild  flowers  served  to  diversify  the  grand 
level,  it  was  an  endless  continuity  of  rank  herbage. 

A  sharp  report  of  a  pistol  to  the  westward  broke  upon  us. 

"  Ha  !  the  signal !"  exclaimed  Tom,  waving  his  branch,  and 
scattering  the  scintillations  around.  u.  There's  a  surprise  !"  and, 
without  a  word,  we  hastened  in  the  direction  of  the  shot. 

What  was  our  joy  and  surprise,  on  reaching  the  spot,  in  dis- 
covering our  commander-in-chief  and  the  men  standing,  with  an 
expression  of  triumphant  satisfaction  depicted  in  every  linea- 
ment, over  the  prostrate  body  of  a  stout,  strong-built  man,  clad 
in  a  pink  calico  shirt,  yellow  breeches  tied  with  ribbons,  and  a 
broad  crimson  sash  fringed  at  the  ends,  in  which  were  stuck  a 
brace  of  formidable  stilettoes.     He  was  a  Mexican  robber. 

Our  commander's  party  had  stumbled  over  the  fellow  as  he 
lay  crouching  in  the  grass,  and  before  he  could  use  his  weapons, 
one  of  the  men  dealt  him  such  a  blow  with  the  stock  of  his  gun, 
that  he  fell  stunned  in  the  manner  we  found  him  when  we  came 
up.  Our  next  care  was  to  pinion  his  arms,  which  we  did  with 
a  stout  cord,  and,  disengaging  his  weapons  from  his  sash,  our 
commander,  shrewdly  suspecting  he  was  a  spy,  and  that  a  ren- 
dezvous was  not  far  ofF,  questioned  him  in  regard  to  his  asso- 
ciates. As  he  would  give  us  no  satisfaction,  but  maintained  a 
sullen  silence,  we  stationed  him  in  the  centre  of  a  group  of  the 
men,  in  order  to  avoid  the  possibility  of  an  escape — these 
Irancheros  are  desperate  villains — and  retraced  our  steps  to  our 
encampment,  the  fire  of  which  having  been  replenished  by  fresh 


126  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

bundles    of  fagots  and  dry  yellow  grass,  was  crac 
throwing  up  dense  volumes  of  smoke. 

At  the  suggestion  of  our  commander  we  formed  a 
war,  and  ranging  ourselves,  Indian  fashion,  around  the  fire, 
placed  the  culprit  in  the  centre  of  us.  Here  we  had  an  oppor- 
tunity of  scanning  the  features  of  the  depredator,  who  stood 
with  his  eyes  bent  on  the  ground,  his  round  swarthy  face  height- 
ened by  the  red  glare  of  the  blaze  that  fell  upon  it.  He  was 
somewhat  above  the  middle  height,  of  muscular  frame,  and  his 
complexion  was  rendered  far  more  sombre  in  its  color  from  the 
contrast  it  bore  to  his  dense  beard  and  mustache.  His  eyes 
were  full  and  of  piercing  brilliancy,  and  his  nose  prominent  and 
slightly  aqualine.  Disposed  as  we  were  around  the  pile  of 
glowing  wood,  attired  in  our  grotesque  costumes,  with  the  rob- 
ber in  his  gay  suit,  and  the  wagons,  oxen,  and  horses  standing 
near,  unconscious  witnesses  of  what  was  going  forward,  the  bright 
moon  streaming  in  a  mild  blue  sky,  with  a  silver  mist  settling  on 
the  earth,  the  scene  was  quite  picturesque. 

Our  commander  then  proceeded  to  question  the  intruder,  and 
sternly  demanded  <>f  him  liis  reason  fir  skulking  about  our 
cam]),  contrary  to  all  principles  of  law  and  order. 

"You  are  a  spy;  and  unless  you  satisfactorily  explain  your 
motive  for  being  in  our  company,  or  tell  where  your  band  is 
concealed,  you  shall  die  the  death  you  merit." 

The  robber  heard  these  words  without  moving  a  muscle,  or 
even  so  much  as  betraying  a  sign  of  uneasiness. 

"  Am  I,  then,  to  understand  that  you  refuse  to  comply  with 
our  wishes  ?"  pursued  our  commander. 

The  culprit  slowly  raised  his  eyes,  and  endeavoured  by  a 
sharp  struggle  to  disengage  his  arms  from  their  fastenings. 
Tom  cocked  his  pistol  at  the  same  moment,  and  the  Mexican's 
brow  darkened  with  rage. 

"  Listen,  senor,  we  desire  no  trifling.  Where  are  your  com- 
panions?    Speak,  or  you  die  on  the  spot !" 


WHAT    CAME    OF    A    RUFFLED    SHIRT.  127 

He  then  growled  an  expression  in  broken  Spanish,  and  by  an 
inclination  of  his  head  inplied  that  they  were  in  the  westward. 

"  Will  you  conduct  us  to  them  ?"  asked  our  leader. 

The  robber's  face  brightened  at  this  query,  and  he  signified 
his  willingness,  accompanied  with  an  impatient  movement  of  his 
legs. 

Our  commander  meditated  for  an  instant,  and  seemed  to 
fathom  the  meaning  of  the  Mexican's  cheerfulness  to  comply 
with  his  request.  There  was  danger  of  a  superiority  of  the 
number  of  the  robbers,  and  great  loss  of  life  might  ensue  from 
a  rash  rencontre. 

A  number  of  the  men  conferred  together,  and  as  it  was  near 
morning,  and  we  desired  to  make  all  haste  in  our  journey,  it 
was  agreed  that  we  should  not  sacrifice  time,  and  venture  what 
was  still  more  valuable,  life,  in  pursuing  these  Mexican  despe- 
radoes, but  keep  the  spy  we  had  captured  a  close  prisoner,  and 
determine  in  the  future  in  what  manner  to  dispose  of  him. 

The  gray  lines  of  light  that  flew  along  the  edge  of  the  hori- 
zon, and  the  soft  flush  of  crimson  in  the  dim  west,  told  the 
approach  of  morning.  Already  the  coyotes  were  howling  in  all 
directions,  and  flocks  of  prairie-hens  skipped  stealthily  through 
the  long  weeds,  billing  like  a  parcel  of  Scotch  pipers.  All  was 
bustle  and  life.  A  portion  of  the  more  dainty  of  our  company 
got  breakfast,  which  was  minus  coffee,  a  deprivation  which  in 
travelling  is  severely  felt ;  others  washed  the  dishes,  an  unplea- 
sant duty  to  trowsered  humanity ;  while  others  harnessed  the 
oxen,  and  got  the  wagons  in  readiness  for  starting.  Notwith- 
standing the  commotion  our  adventure  had  caused  in  the  little 
camp,  it  soon  subsided,  and  all  was  as  tranquil  as  before.  It 
was  unanimously  agreed  that  the  spy  should  walk  pinioned 
behind  one  of  the  wagons,  and  he  was  accordingly  secured  to 
the  foremost  of  the  procession. 

As  my  companion,  Tom,  was  in  a  facetious  mood  at  having 
discovered  so  important  a  villain — for  villains  now-a-days  are 


128  DASHES    OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

deemed  of  the  highest  consequence,  if  we  can  credit  the  news- 
papers— he  signified  his  intention  to  curry  our  old  pack-mare. 
Her  coat  being  rough  and  frowsy,  it  added  to  her  otherwise 
ungainly  appearance,  and  the  opinion  seemed  mutual  that  a 
good  brushing  would  be  of  service.  Finding  an  old  snaggled 
curry-comb  in  the  boot  of  one  of  the  wagons,  Tom  led  out  the 
creature,  and  tying  her  to  a  stake  secured  in  the  ground,  went 
industriously  to  work,  commencing  at  her  short  curling  mane 
and  thick-set  neck.  She  was  passive  under  this  part  of  the 
operation ;  but  he  had  no  sooner  passed  the  implement  down 
to  her  fetlocks  and  pastern  than  she  set  up  a  terrific  neigh,  and 
dilated  her  nostrils  in  a  frightful  manner. 

"  W-o-a,  Hag,  stand  still  I"  shrieked  Tom. 

But  the  more  he  inveighed,  the  more  Hag  snorted. 

"  W-o-a  now  !  w-o-a  ["  and  he  patted  her  so  caressingly,  that 
she  suspended  her  demonstrations  of  disl 

"  You  must  be  more  careful,  Tom/'  said  I,  looking  on  ami 
suppressing  a  smile  at  his  solicitude.  "  Use  her  tenderly;  see, 
her  knees  are  scratched."' 

Tom  again  fell  to  work.  He  went  on  fur  Borne  time,  but  did 
not  dare  to  touch  her  1< 

"  Now  she's  quiet,  I'll  try  her  haunches,"  said  he,  and  pass- 
ing the  comb  down  that  vicinity,  she  uttered  a  loud  wail,  and 
kicking  up  her  legs  with  tremendous  force,  sent  Tom  flying  into 
the  fire,  burying  his  head  in  the  smouldering  ashes,  and  black- 
ing his  elegant  white  shirt  in  such  a  manner  as  to  metamorphose 
him  completely.  I  ran  to  his  assistance,  and  after  some  little 
trouble  rescued  my  ill-fated  companion.  He  was  charred  from 
head  to  foot,  and  a  piece  of  live  coal  having  touched  the  tip  of 
his  nose,  that  organ  reminded  me  somewhat  of  Bardolph's  red 
and  numerous  feature  in  the  play. 

"  Did  you  ever  see  such  an  unlucky  devil,''  said  Tom,  the 
hot  water  startiug  from  his  eyes.  "  Ain't  I  a  model  for  an 
artist  ?     Why  a  dustman  would  look  pale  by  comparison.     I 


WHAT    CAME    OF    A   RUFFLED    SHIRT.  129 

ask  you  in  a  friendly  way,  what  ought  to  be  done  with  that  old 
hussy  ?"  and  he  pointed  at  Hag,  who,  seemingly  half-conscious 
of  the  damage  she  had  done,  stood  winking  her  large  dull  eyes, 
and  looking  stupidly  on,  occasionally  giving  her  shaggy  tail  a 
lazy  switch,  as  if  satisfied  that  she  had  performed  a  Christian 
duty. 

"  My  advice  is,  that  you  let  her  alone,  and  think  no  more  of 
improving  her  dress.  She's  an  unworthy  object  of  your  tender 
regard,"  I  said  in  a  soothing  tone. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  we'll  do,"  cried  Tom,  brushing  the  ashes 
from  his  garments;  "I'll  make  a  bargain  for  us  to  ride  in  the 
wagon — I  can  easily  arrange  it  with  the  red-headed  teamster — 
and  if  our  commander  will  permit  it,  we'll  bind  that  Mexican 
robber  on  her  back.  We'll  thereby  have  a  double  revenge. 
He's  pretty  heavy,  and  she'll  have  the  trouble  of  carrying  him, 
and  he'll  be  shaken  to  a  jelly  by  her  capers.  What  do  you 
say?" 

I  assented  at  once,  in  consideration  of  his  recent  misfortune. 
Tom  gained  the  commander's  approval,  and  without  more 
ado  we  strapped  the  spy  on  to  her  back,  somewhat  after  the 
manner  of  Mazeppa.  The  robber  begged  hard  to  be  allowed  to 
proceed  as  had  first  been  arranged,  vowing  with  many  curses 
in  his  broken  dialect,  that  the  mare  would  crush  him  to  death. 
]3ut  the  punishment  was  too  well  merited,  and  he  was  obliged 
to  bear  the  infliction. 

Tom  was  in  high  glee  as  he  witnessed  the  mutual  discomfit- 
ure that  his  plan  occasioned.  Those  modern  and  familiar 
tortures — tossing  in  a  blanket  and  bestriding  a  rail — were 
mdeed  eclipsed.  Hag  would  snort  and  strike  her  sides  vio- 
lently ;  then  piteli  forward,  and  full  on  her  fore-knees ;  then, 
rearing  up,  would  roll  downwards,  with  a  heavy  fall,  and  endea- 
vour to  shake  the  burden  from  her  back:  again,  she  would 
plunge  madly  from  side  to  side,  throwing  her  hoofs  high  in  the 
air ;  and  then,  what  was  worse  than  all,  lying  flat  on  her  sides, 


130  dashes  or  am^rkjan  humor. 

and  tearing  up  the  ground  with  her  iron  shoes,  she  would  bury 
the  victim  in  the  wild  grass  until  he  groaned  with  despair. 

It  was  now  broad  daylight,  and  the  sun  rising  in  its  majestic 
loveliness  made  all  bright  and  glorious.  The  air  was  keen  and 
bracing,  and  stratas  of  fleecy  clouds,  edged  with  gold,  were  fly- 
ing like  spirits  along  the  sky.  The  wild  bees  were  out  on  their 
busy  mission,  and  seemed  to  rest  on  their  wings  to  inhale  the 
perfume  of  the  passing  breeze,  while  the  dewdrops  were  lovingly 
clinging  as  though  loth  to  leave  the  half-open  buds  of  the 
prairie  flowerets.  Even  the  oxen  raised  up  their  huge  heads 
and  sniffed  the  sweets  of  the  fresh  morning  air,  and  the  horses, 
which  the  night  before  had  shown  themselves  dull  with  languor, 
bristled  up  full  of  spirits,  and  appeared  anxious  to  perform 
their  tedious  round  of  drudgery. 

We  resumed  our  journey  at  an  early  hour,  and.  with  the 
exception  of  Tom  and  myself,  who  had  been  up  all  night,  our 
party  was  full  of  life  and  energy.  The  incident  of  the  past 
night  had  served  to  inspire  the  adventurers  in  a  wild  and 
unknown  country  with  a  feeling  of  superstitious  romance,  and 
its  effect  was  in  the  pleasantest  manner  perceivable.  From  the 
fact  that  there  were  man)'  of  us  by  nature  endowed  with  feel- 
ings of  the  hi  sibility,  and  being  for  the  most  part 
treasure-seekers,  far  from  our  homes  of  affection  and  comfort, 
we  were  alive  to  these  impressions  of  adventure,  and  enjoyed  to 
the  full  anything  partaking  of  a  fictitious  interest. 

A  snug  bed  of  blankets  and  straw  being  made  for  us  in  the 
baggage-wagon,  myself  and  sentry-companion,  with  his  laurels 
as  a  hero  fresh  on  his  brow,  turned  in.  Tom  drew  himself  up 
in  the  form  of  something  like  a  figure  4,  and  burying  his  head 
in  the  blankets  was  soon  in  Dream-land. 

Although  fatigued  with  watching  and  travel  I  happened  to 
be  in  just  one  of  those  moods  when  Slumber  stands  at  a  little 
distance  off  in  the  most  provoking  manner,  defying  you  to  em- 
brace her,  despite  your  wooing.     I  laid  for  some  time  watching 


WHAT    CAME    OF    A    RUFFLED    SHIRT.  131 

the  large  flies  alight  on  the  broad  wet  noses  of  the  oxen  in  the 
rear  of  us — and  such  fandangoes  as  those  flies  indulged  in  were, 
to  an  observer,  fraught  with  a  tricky  oddness.  It  seemed  as  if 
they  had  adopted  this  particular  spot  as  a  play-ground,  and 
were  enjoying  themselves  at  a  game  of  hide-and-seek.  Buzzing 
around  in  the  air,  and  executing  an  incredible  number  of  fan- 
tastic evolutions,  one  of  these  large  green  insects  would  settle, 
walk  around  the  rim  of  the  great  nostril,  and  finally  creep  in. 
Soon,  another  fly  would  perform  a  similar  movement,  and 
seeking,  as  it  were,  for  his  playfellow,  would  dart  after  him  with 
a  noisy  buzz.  Then  out  would  fly  the  twain,  and  off  they 
would  go  a  short  way  into  the  air,  and  strike  each  other  with 
their  mottled  wings.  Then  they  would  run  with  amazing  rapid- 
ity the  full  area  of  the  nostril,  pausing  once  and  awhile  to 
indulge  in  some  gambol  known  only  to  insects,  and  away  as 
before,  only  one  up  each  of  the  circular  chasms.  After  staying 
there  for  a  moment,  with  seeming  cautiousness  they  would  creep 
to  the  edge  and  appear  to  peep  at  each  other  with  a  glance  of , 
discernment;  then  out  they  flew  again,  and,  poising  for  a  second 
in  the  air,  would  hurl  themselves  with  a  noiseless  clash,  and 
shoot  up  far  out  of  sight.  The  poor  oxen  trudged  onward  all 
the  time  with  a  patient  tread,  little  knowing  what  a  field  of 
pleasure  their  broad  brown  noses  were  affording  the  merry  in- 
sects of  the  prairie. 

Nature  exhausted  soon  exerted  her  sway,  and  ere  long,  like 
Tom,  who  was  snoring  by  my  side,  I  dropped  to  sleep ;  when 
I  awoke  it  was  past  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  and  I  found 
myself  at  a  stopping-place  on  the  road,  called  the  "Blue  Tent." 
We  had  left  the  forks  of  the  road  where  it  diverged  towards 
the  first  digging,  at  Mormon  Islands  on  the  river,  and  the  roll- 
ing prairie  we  had  traversed  now  gradually  broke  into  steep 
hills,  covered  only  with  grass,  or  occasional  rocks  near  the  top. 

Looking  out  of  my  travelling  bed-room,  which  I  did  without 
the  trouble  of  pushing  aside  cur  tains  or  raising  windows,  I 


132  DASHES    OF    AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

found  the  "  Blue  Tent"  to  consist  of  a  log-house  of  rude  con- 
struction, with  no  second  story,  and  a  large  chimney,  from 
which  the  smoke  was  issuing  in  thick  black  masses.  Why  it 
had  been  termed  the  u  Blue  Tent,"  was  to  me  a  matter  of  mys- 
tery, as  I  could  see  nothing  about  it  to  warrant  its  name — 
unless  it  were,  being  a  hostel,  and  provided  with  the  best 
brands  of  stimulating  agua  ardiente,  its  patrons  were  made 
blue,  we  could  divine  no  reason  of  the  application.  This,  by 
the  way,  however,  the  Blue  Tent,  wrongly  or  properly  named, 
was  right  welcome,  and  I  descended  from  my  apartment  and 
took  a  view  of  the  premises. 

A  small  stream  of  pure  water  trickled  by  the  door,  and  flowed 
shiningly  on  into  an  adjoining  meadow.  The  water  seemed  so 
clear  and  sweet,  that  I  at  once  thought  of  applying  my  parched 
mouth  to  it's  smooth  breast.  As  I  stooped  to  do  so,  a  stout, 
sun-burnt  man,  in  a  broad  sombrero,  stepped  forward  and  bade 
me  desist.  Denied  one  of  the  common  properties  of  life,  I  asked 
the  meaning  of  his  intern  n  oce. 

"  You  may  not  be  aware  of  it,"  he  said,  pulling  a  tin  cup 
which  was  suspended  by  a  hook  of  wire  to  his  belt;  "  tins 
stream  is  private  property,  and  youmust  bargain  with  the  land- 
lord before  it  can  be  touched." 

Our  commander  stepped  up  and  informed  me  that  he  was 
about  to  make  a  bargain  with  the  proprietor  of  the  "Blue 
Tent"  for  water  for  the  cortege.     Of  course  then  I  arose. 

The  landlord  was  a  dumpy,  fit,  jolly-looking  person,  with  a 
face  full  of  benignity  ami  perspiration,  and  we  soon  came  to 
terms — that  for  a  dollar  we  should  have  sufficient  water  for 
both  the  men  and  horses ;  a  demand  which  our  commander 
readily  assented  to,  remarking  at  the  same  time  to  me,  as  I  was 
about  to  expostulate  on  the  propriety  of  paying  for  what 
appeared  so  plentiful,  that  the  terms  were  nothing  but  reason- 
able, considering  the  great  scarcity  of  spring  water  in  that  sec- 
tion of  the  country.     As  this  was  mere  custom,  I,  nothing  loth, 


WHAT   GAME    OF   A   RUFFLED    SHIRT.  133 

yielded,  and  for  the  first  time  in  my  life,  paid  for  a  draught  of 
fresh  water. 

The  scenery  around  the  "  Blue  Tent "  was  diversified  and 
picturesque.  The  small  valleys  at  the  base  of  the  hills,  and 
the  gently  sloping  declivities,  were  covered  with  irregular 
groves  of  white  and  live  oak,  forming  clear  expansive  vistas. 
On  these  trees,  troops  of  squirrels,  with  their  feather-like  tails 
waving  in  the  wind,  were  galloping  about  the  evergreen  branches 
in  the  wildest  merriment.  A  long  green  mead,  powdered  at 
intervals  with  dainty  patches  of  wild  flowers, 'lay  like  a  strip  of 
fairy  verdure  in  the  back-ground.  We  found  the  brightest 
selection  of  colors.  There  were  white,  blue,  and  violet  5  the 
orange  and  lemon,  fading  into  the  liquid  tint  of  the  amber ; 
the  Tyrian  purple  and  soft  lilac;  the  deep  crimson,  bright 
scarlet,  and  modest  pink,  blended  beautifully  with  the  rich  sil- 
ver grass,  filling  the  air  with  fragrance.  These  floral  gifts, 
1  growing  in  most  luxurious  profusion,  are  the  natural  products 
1  of  the  country. 

While  the  animals  were  being  refreshed  with  deep  draughts 
of  water,  Tom  lighted  a  calumet,  and  with  his  hands  placed 
leisurely  on  his  back,  took  a  stroll  around  "  Hag"  and  her  load 
of  villainy,  and  with  a  twinkle  of  his  eye,  in  which  we  read  the 
highest  satisfaction,  turned  and  said — 

"  Well,  I  think  she  is  served  out  for  her  tricks  with  me,  the 
old  dragon — eh  ?" 

I  nodded  assent. 

"  She's  as  knowing  as  a  fox,  and  curse  me  if  I  don't  think 
there's  a  dash  of  the  reynard  in  her  breed,"  he  observed, 
laughingly.  "  But,  I  say,  she's  played  the  devil  with  my 
linen,"  and  as  Tom  looked  down  on  his  bosom,  of  erst  as  white 
and  stainless  as  a  lily,  his  countenance  fell.  "  There's  no  doubt 
of  it,  a  white  shirt  in  these  parts  is  a  rarity,  and  I  fancy  these 
'  ruffles  will  make  the  miners  stare.  I'll  put  on  my  pink  ranger, 
and  have  this  washed  if  it's  possible." 


134  DASHES   OF    AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

Off  lie  started,  and  in  a  few  mimites  was  in  the  kitchen 
conferring  with  the  hostess.  She,  by  dint  of  the  promise  of 
an  exorbitant  fee,  promised  to  "do  up"  the  garment,  a  Za?uode, 
in  two  hours.  She  said  she  had  no  flat-iron,  but  would  substi- 
tute the  scoured  bottom  of  a  bran  new  tea -kettle  to  do  the 
pressing ;  and  true  to  her  word,  in  a  few  moments  the  laced 
article  was  floating  in  a  barrel  of  suds,  and  in  another  half-hour 
we  beheld  it  fluttering  on  the  clothes-line.  I  afterwards  wit- 
nessed the  old  lady's  substitution  of  the  new  style  of  flat-iron, 
and  considering  the  awkwardness  of  the  implement,  the  shirt 
actually  looked  well,  although  a  Parisian  I  use  might 

have  scowled  at  the  fold  of  the  ruffles. 

As  the  journey  before  us  was  extremely  tedious,  and  having 
business  in  San  Francisco,  we  mutually  decided  on  remaining 
at  the  '-Blue  Tent"  until  the  following  day,  when  our  host  in- 
formed us  that  a  caravan  would  be  passing  on  the  homeward 
route.  There  were  all  sorts  of  luxuries,  too,  in  the  way  of 
beef-steaks,  onions,  and  black  tea,  to  be  procured  where  we 
were,  and  so  we  abandoned  our  original  project  of  visiting  the 
mines.  Disposing  of  "  Hag"  to  our  commander,  we  enjoined 
him  to  take  good  care  of  the  beast,  and  on  no  account  to  let 
the  spy  give  him  the  slip.  He  promised  us  that  our  wishes 
should  be  complied  with,  and  signified  his  determination  of 
taking  the  Mexican  captain  to  the  mines,  and  setting  him  to 
work  in  the  gulches  under  a  constant  guard.  This  we  highly 
approved  of,  as  it  was  turning  the  rogue  to  some  account,  and 
keeping  him  out  of  mischief  for  a  brief  season  at  least. 

That  same  night  the  cortege  departed,  and,  with  many  ex- 
pressions of  regret  on  either  side  at  so  soon  parting  company, 
they  took  up  their  line  of  march,  and  Tom  and  I  were  left  to 
ourselves. 

After  a  hearty  meal,  we  were  put  to  sleep  in  hammocks  sus- 
pended from  two  tall  sycamores  at  the  back  of  the  cabin, 
where  we  lay  looking  at  the  stars  through  the  lattice  of  boughs 


WHAT    CAME    OF    A    RUFFLED    SHIRT.  135 

and  leaves  until  past  midnight.  These  hammocks  are  cosy 
contrivances,  and  one  feels  as  if  he  were,  after  the  fashion  of 
Mahomet's  coffin,  placed  something  between  heaven  and  earth, 
with  no  thanks  to  a  board  floor  for  support.  I  slept  soundly 
till  daybreak,  and  with  the  exception  of  a  slight  numbness  in 
the  limbs,  felt  as  much  refreshed  as  if  I  had  been  pillowed  on  a 
couch  of  down  in  the  grandest  chamber  of  Hampton  Court. 

Notwithstanding  the  earnest  assurances  of  the  landlord  that 
he  was  in  hourly  expectation  of  a  caravan  going  to  San  Fran- 
cisco, none  came,  and  we  were  compelled  to  stop  over  another 
day  at  his  house.  We  amused  ourselves  during  the  time  with 
shooting  at  eagles  and  wild  geese — we  only  shot  at  them,  for 
our  pistols  would  not  reach  them  by  fifty  feet — and  of  making 
garlands  of  the  wild  flowers  that  we  plucked  in  the  meadow. 
These  unsatisfactory  pastimes,  with  strolls  over  the  hills  in 
search  of  minerals,  constituted  the  principal  of  our  enjoyments, 
and,  seeking  our  hammocks  at  an  early  hour,  went  through  the 
same  course  of  counting  the  stars  and  chatting  about  home 
and  the  "  girls  we  left  behind  us." 

A  third  day  came,  but  no  caravan,  and  we  were  getting 
frightfully  tired  of  the  monotonous  course  of  life  at  the  "  Bluo 
Tent."  I  had  almost  made  up  my  mind  to  alone  seek  my  way 
back  to  Sutter's  Fort,  but  the  landlord  and  his  wife  assured  me 
that  I  would  either  fall  a  prey  to  the  coyotes,  or  to  a  surety  be 
murdered  by  the  Mexican  rancheros.  On  reflection,  the  danger 
was  so  apparent,  to  say  nothing  of  the  want  of  society  over  the 
dull  prairie  I  had  so  lately  crossed,  that  I  thought  it  advisable 
to  make  the  best  of  the  matter  by  choosing  the  lesser  of  the  two 
evils. 

As  the  charge  of  our  host  was  anything  but  reasonable,  and 
as  his  spouse,  an  elderly  little  dumpling,  as  broad  as  she  was 
long — seemed  to  exercise  a  deal  of  authority  over  the  public 
arrangements  of  the  house,  with  a  careful  eye  to  the  financial 
interests,  we  found  our  stock  of  ca^li  u'»uj^  with  prodigal  rapid- 


136  DASHES    OF    AMERICAN   HUMOR 

ity.     Every  article  ordered  we  were  compelled  to  pay  for  on  | 
delivery,  and  as  we  were  seeking  adventure,  we  lived  to  an  extra- 
ordinary degree,  what  would  be  termed  in  England  "  fast."  Tom  l 
was  lavish  in  the  extreme,  and  considering  the  position  of  mat- 
ters,   and  where  we  were,  it  was  heart-rending,   and  decided  I 
assassination  to  the  largest  purse,  to  hear  him  demand  his  "  steaks  I 
and  hot  slap-jacks"  with  such  apathetic  coolness.     A  written  I 
code  of  stipulations,  pasted  up  in  a  conspicuous  manner  on  a 
fast-ticking  Yankee  clock,  informed  us.  that  as  ••  provisions  were 
scarce  and  dear,  it  was  necessary  for  visitors  to  be  strictly  punc- 
tual in  their  payments;"  and  thisgentle  hint  being  coupled  with 
the  fact  that  the  hostess  was  uncompromisingly  particular  in  her 
claims,  we  had,  adopting  the  Californian  exjn-cssion,  to  "pony 
up"  at  every  turn.     Eaeli  meal  cost  us,  joiotly,  three  dollars, 
and  the  hammocks  fifty  cents,  and  as  the  caravan  did  not  make 
its  appearance  on  the  fifth  day  of  our  sojourn,  we  were  penniless. 

lloving  about  among  the  grassy  arroyos,  scrambling  through 
the  tall  grasses  and  over  the  hills,  a  change  of  linen  became 
highly  necessary,  and  Tom  once  more  resumed  his  white  shirt. 
As  he  came  parading  out  in  front  of  the  house,  I  observed  our 
hostess  watching  him  with  a  close  gaze;  and  as  she  turned  on 
her  heel,  and  walked  back  into  her  mansion,  she  said  to  herself  \ 
in  an  audible  tone  : — 

"  Well,  'pon  my  life,  there's  a  comical  idea,  for  a  man  to  be 
wearing  ruffles,  and  hasn't  got  a  tester  to  pay  for  his  hammock. 
Sich  people  ought'nt  to  receive  charity,  and  I'll  give  'em  no 
countenance." 

"  There,  Tom,  did  you  hear  that  ?"  said  I ;  "  the  old  lady  is 
out  on  your  ruffles,  and  she'll  show  us  no  quarter  in  consequence.  . 
Mark  my  word,  that  shirt  has  so  gone  against  her  ideas  of  pro- 
priety, that  she'll  not  give  us  a  thing  more  to  eat  without  a 
tire-payment,  and  you  know  we  haven't  a  shilling  to  bless  our- 
selves with." 

"  Hang  her  !"  replied  Tom,  pulling  out  his  empty  pockets, 


WHAT    CAME    OF    A    RUFFLED    SHIRT.  137 

and  scattering  a  few  crumbs  on  the  ground,  --  I'd  have  her  know 
that  this  is  no  common  sample  of  handiwork.  She's  too  fat  to 
appreciate  this  fine  stitching,  and  such  needle-work  overcomes 
her  nerves." 

"  That's  not  the  point/'  said  I,  moodily,  u  it  doesn't  better 
our  condition.  However,  there's  no  use  of  being  cast  down, 
something  must  soon  turn  up." 

"  And  will  as  sure's  your  born,"  interrupted  he,  "  what's  the 
quotation  ?  In  the  bright  lexicon  of  youth — which  interesting 
period  of  life  we  have  passed  somewhat — there's  no  such  word 
as—" 

Before  he  could  finish  the  sentence  our  attention  was  suddenly 
arrested  by  a  group  of  wildly  clad  men,  issuing  from  a  clump 
of  scraggy  oaks  before  us,  which,  as  they  drew  nearer,  proved  to 
be  Indians.  The}*  followed  each  other  in  regular  file,  and  kept 
time  to  the  thumping  of  a  rude  drum,  about  the  size  of  a  water 
pail,  that  sent  a  hollow  reverberation  over  the  hills. 

--  Here's  strange  company,"  said  Tom,  with  an  apparent  mis- 
giving as  to  the  nature  of  the  new-comers.  u  I  wonder  if 
they  are  friendly.  Ho  !  landlord,  who  are  these  gentry  in 
wampum  ?" 

A  glance  at  the  face  of  the  individual  addressed  plainly  indi- 
cated that  nothing  was  to  be  apprehended ;  for  no  sooner  did 
he  obtain  a  glimpse  of  the  beaded  file,  than,  without  even  an- 
swering Tom's  question,  he  hailed  to  his  wife  at  the  top  of  his 
lungs  : — 

"  Mab,  Mab,  the  Injuns  are  comin',  and  Whitetop's  with 
them  !" 

Mistress  Mab  dropped  a  basin  of  broth  at  this  intelligence, 
with  so  much  precipitation,  that  she  scalded  her  fingers,  and 
wheezing  loudly,  made  her  way  in  front  of  the  house.  By  this 
time  they  had  halted  on  the  margin  of  the  stream,  and  their 
chief  making  a  sign  to  them  with  his  bow,  they  all  set  up  a  rude 
howl  to  the  overcoming  din  of  the  drum,  after  which  they  ran 


138  DASHES    OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

up  to  the  hostess,  and  shook  her  warmly  by  the  hand.  Bestow- 
ing her  greatest  favour  on  the  most  gaudily  dressed  of  the 
group,  who  was  a  tall,  muscular  man,  she  said  : — 

"  Well,  now,  Whitetop,  I'm  so  glad  to  see  you.  How  well 
you're  looking ;  and,  my  soul's  alive  !  what  a  pouch  of  gold 
you've  got !     You've  had  rare  luck,  or  I'm  no  prophet." 

Whitetop  received  these  words  with  many  signs  of  pleasure, 
and,  without  uttering  a  word  intelligible  to  us,  cast  his  eye  at  a 
long  leathern  pouch  that  hung  by  his  side,  and  soon  entered  the 
hostel.  • 

His  tribe,  some  sixteen  in  number,  were  partially  clad  in  every 
variety  of  gay  and  tawdry  costume,  obtained  at  the  trading- 
posts,  and  wore  moccasins  of  buckskin  worked  with  beads. 
Their  heads  were  ornamented  with  long  feathers,  dyed  red  and 
yellow,  and  most  of  them  had  broad  metal  rings  dangling  in  their 
noses.  Their  complexion  was  a  dark  mahogany,  with  high 
cheekbones,  wide  mouths,  noses  nearly  flat,  and  hair  straight, 
black  and  c  ith  low  foreheads,  and  small  jet-black  i 

They  were  the  remnant  of  a  once  powerful  tribe,  we  afterwards 
learned,  from  the  head-quarters  of  the  Sacramento,  known  as 
the  "  Friendly  Squatters." 

Refreshing  themselves  at  the  stream,  without  even  as  much 
as  asking  permission,  with  gestures  of  the  most  incoherent  char- 
acter, they  entered  the  "  Blue  Tent,''  and  partook  of  a  feast  of 
bear-meat,  which  they  had  brought  with  them,  wrapped  in  a 
blanket,  and  roast  acorns,  and  then  washed  the  whole  down  with 
deep  drafts  of  whisky.  After  this,  they  gradually  re-appeared 
on  the  plaza,  and  scattered  themselves  about  on  the  grass,  with 
their  legs  crossed,  and  smoked  a  rank  weed  which  they  cure, 
in  long  pipes,  and  sent  clouds  of  strong-scented  smoke  rolling 
and  reeling  into  the  breeze.  Presently  the  chief,  Whitetop, 
appeared,  and  coming  in  the  direction  were  Tom  and  I  were  seat- 
ed, made  a  motion  to  us  to  approach  him.  We  did  so,  and  in 
a  series  of  most  inexpressive  pantomime,  which  was  interpreted 


WHAT    CAME   OF    A   RUFFLED    SHIRT.  139 

by  the  host,  intimated  that  it  would  give  him  pleasure  if  we 
would  join  him  in  a  friendly  pipe.  We  assented  in  the  blandest 
manner ;  and  first  taking  a  whiff  from  a  long  bone-handled  cal- 
umet, the  bowl  of  which  was  hollowed  out  of  a  thin  and  almost 
transparent  stone,  he  passed  it  first  to  Tom,  who  followed  his 
example,  and  then  to  me  acting  in  the  like  manner,  although  I 
most  honestly  confess,  not  without  some  feeling  of  repugnance, 
as  I  was  always  partial  from  boyhood,  when  I  did  indulge, 
to  my  own  private  meerschaum,  and  no  thanks  to  my  neigh- 
bours, while  the  operation  of  puffing  was  going  on. 

I  observed  that  while  the  Indian  chief  was  smoking  he  occa- 
sionally ogled  Tom's  white  shirt  in  the  most  significant  manner, 
and  seemed  to  regard  the  ruffled  portion  with  a  gaze  of  curiosity. 
This  did  not  escape  my  companion,  for  every  now  and  then  he 
adjusted  the  plaits  on  the  bosom,  and  set  them  out  to  the  great- 
est advantage,  no  motion  of  which  was  lost  on  the  chief.  After 
we  had  done  smoking  he  pulled  the  stem  from  the  bowl  of  the 
calumet,  and  thrusting  them  into  a  fold  of  his  sash,  leaned  over 
on  his  arm,  and,  with  an  expression  of  interest  in  his  brilliant 
little  eyes,  examined  closely  the  seams  of  the  wrist-bands,  and 
plucked  at  the  lace  with  his  thumb  and  fore-finger,  as  if  striving 
to  divine  what  the  closely-wove  threadwork  could  be. 

"  That's  something  of  a  novelty,  great  chief,"  said  Tom,  ex- 
changing a  glance  with  me.  "  It's  what  we  call  a  white  shirt ; 
and  that,"  he  continued,  pointing  to  the  ruffles,  a  is  linen  cam- 
bric and  lace.     Do  you  admire  it  ?" 

The  chief  appeared  to  comprehend  what  was  said  to  him,  and 
nodded  his  head  affirmatively. 

"  Will  white  man  sell  shirt,  eh  ?"  said  he  in  an  imperfect  ac- 
cent, speaking  rapidly.  "  I  like  to  have  him — he  be  great  thing 
for  squaw  at  home  in  west." 

The  Indians  in  speaking  of  their  home  invariably  say  it  is  in 
the  west.  Whitetop,  with  a  number  of  strange  gestures,  con- 
tinued— 


140  DASHES    OF    AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

"  I  give  you  gold  for  white ,"  and  pausing  for  a  moment 

I  perceived  he  had  forgotten  the  name. 

"  Shirt,"  I  remarked,  promptingly. 

"  Yes,  shirt — much  gold — what  you  take,  eh  ?"' 

"  I'll  leave  it  to  your  own  will,  great  chief,''  said  Tom,  who, 
not  knowing  what  the  Indian  might  be  induced  to  give  for  the 
garment,  tacitly  desired,  like  a  true  Yankee  as  he  was,  to  drive 
a  bargain  on  the  most  advantageous  terms.  But  the  chief  did 
not  fully  comprehend  him. 

"  I  say  ril  leave  it  to  yourself — give  me  what  you  think  it's 
worth,"  pursued  Tom. 

"  I'll  give  you  gold-ounces."  and  he  numbered  five  on  his  fin- 
gers. 

"  Good  1M  said  Tom.  "  For  five  ounces  of  gold  the  shirt 
shall  be  yours,"  and  speaking  aside  to  me,  sotto  voce,  said, 
"  That's  a  fair  figure,  is'nt  it,  old  fellow  ?" 

The  Indian,  unshackling  his  pouch  from  his  side,  spread  out 
a  bit  of  cloth  on  the  ground,  and  pouring  a  pile  of  precious  dust, 
and  balancing  it  in  the  palm  of  his  hand,  as  if  it  were  a  scale, 
handed  it  to  Tom  and  said, 

"  There!  white  shir'  mine; — ounces,*' and  he  repeated  the 
process  of  numbering  on  his  lingers. 

Tom  received  the  payment  with  a  glow  of  satisfaction,  and 
quickly  laid  the  garment  before  him.  No  sooner  did  he  receive 
it,  than  holding  it  high  in  the  air.  his  tribe  gathered  round  him 
and  viewed  it  with  signs  of  delight,  not  unmingled  with  wonder. 
The  chief  then  folded  it  with  great  care,  and  tucking  it  in  his 
sash,  shook  us  by  the  hand  ardently,  and  walked  slowly  with  the 
assembled  red-men  into  the  house. 

"  "Well  done,"  said  I,  slapping  my  companion  on  the  shoulder. 

11 1  told  you  something  would  turn  up;"  and  as  Tom  spoke, 
he  dangled  the  little  bag  of  gold  exultingly.  "  Now  we've  got 
lots  of  the  '  ready,'  and  if  old  Dame  Mab  does'nt  wrap  up  every 
word  she  utters  in  a  smile,  we'll  cut  her  acquaintance,  and  leave 
the  «  Blue  Tent'  in  disgust," 


WHAT    CAME    OF    A    RUFFLED    SHIRT.  141 

When  the  old  vixen  learned  from  the  Indian  what  had  taken 
place,  and  that  our  finances  were  so  greatly  repaired,  she  was  all 
smiles  and  condescension,  and  could  not  do  too  much  to  pro- 
mote our  comfort.  It  was  all  thrown  away  upon  us,  however, 
for  purchasing  a  batch  of  bear-meat  from  the  Indians,  we  cooked 
it  in  an  oak  glen,  and  slept  on  a  bed  of  leaves.  It  never  rains 
but  it  pours,  and  one  stroke  of  good  fortune  was  quickly  followed 
by  another.  The  next  day  after  this  adventure,  to  our  great  joy, 
a  caravan  that  was  going  our  route,  made  its  appearance,  which 
we  joined  on  the  payment  of  a  trifle,  and  in  five  days  from  the 
time  we  turned  our  backs  on  the  '  Blue  Tent,'  we  were  home 
— or  rather,  once  more  in  San  Francisco. 

It  was  fortunate  for  us  that  we  met  that  party  of  Squatter 
Indians,  and  still  more  that  Tom  had  taken  it  into  his  whimsical 
head  to  wear  a  ruffled. shirt. 


142  DASHES    OF    AMERICAN   HUMOR. 


CHRISTMAS  PANTOMIMES. 


Christmas  in  England  and  Christmas  in  America  differ 
slightly  in  various  points,  though  in  the  general  phases  of  the 
festivities  of  the  day  there  exists  a  close  and  wo  may  Bay  a 
copied  resemblance.  The  English  delight  in  perpetuating  the 
customs  of  their  fathers.  While  other  nations  in  the  strife  of 
popular  progress  forget  old  tradii  ions,  and  neglect  time-honoured 
usages,  the  true  Briton  still  cherishes  that  which  his  ancestors 
decreed;  and,  by  conforming  with  their  whimsical  old  notions, 
displays  a  trait  of  ancestral  regard  and  unswerving  faith  rather 
to  be  admired  than  otherwise.  Other  nations  kick  down  the 
fashions  of  past  days  without  even  advancing  in  the  scale  of 
progressive  enlightenment.  Look  on  the  continent  of  Europe, 
and  we  find  a  tardiness  and  incertitude  absolutely  painful.  The 
French  are  too  vivacious  and  transient  to  honour  old  customs; 
the  Italians  too  lazy ;  the  Spanish  too  ardent  in  passing  events ; 
and  the  Russians  by  far  too  inert.  We  may,  perhaps,  except 
the  Germans,  who  stick  to  "  faderland"  and  its  opinions  with  a 
stolidness  and  inflexibility  .quite  refreshing.  Commercial  en- 
terprise and  a  social  revolution  might  serve  as  excuses  for  for- 
getfulness  of  the  antiquated  reminiscences  of  the  past,  but  we 
note  nothing  of  this  sort  on  the  Continent ;  and  yet  England, 
with  all  her  wealth,  power,  and  onward  spirit  of  advancement, 
still  finds  time  now  and  then  to  devote  to  the  pastimes  and  enact- 
ments of  the  venerated  dead.  Experience  has  taught  us  that 
there  is  a  solidity  and  dependableness  about  the  real  John  Bull 
that  characterize  no  nation  on  this  side  of  the  blue  Atlantic. 


CHRISTMAS    PANTOMIMES.  143 

A  Scotsman  will  sometimes  change  his  kilt ;  the  blarney  of  an 
Emeralder  puzzles  us ;  but  in  dealing  with  an  Englishman  we 
know  exactly  where  to  find  him.  He  never  changes  his  views 
of  friendship,  unless  some  unaccountable  circumstance  interposes 
to  enforce  a  sterling  reason. 

"We  commenced  talking  of  the  Christmas  festivities.  We  like 
the  mode  of  conducting  these  sports  in  "merrie  England."  We 
like  the  decorations  of  holly  with  its  pretty  red  berries,  the 
legend  of  the  misletoe  (especially  that  portion  of  the  legend  that 
allows  one  to  kiss  any  pretty  girl  found  under  it),  the  adorn- 
ments of  verdure  and  the  careful  display  of  sweets  and  outland- 
ish lollypops  in  the  shop-windows,  the  little  festive  deception 
of  Kriss  Kingle,  practised  on  the  juveniles,  the  turkeys  and 
pluin-puddings  (ah!  how  nice),  the  games  of  blindman's-buff, 
hunt-the-slipper,  and  the  fairy  Christmas  bowl ;  but,  above  all, 
the  pantomimes  at  the  theatres.  It  is  the  pantomimes  that. 
thrill  the  hearts  of  the  juveniles,  and  even  the  children  of  larger 
growth.  It  is  glorious  fun  to  see  clever  Mr.  Clown  slap  poor 
old  decrepid  Pantaloon,  and  then  witness  their  joint  endeavours 
to  entrap  agile  Harlequin,  who,  first  kissing  graceful  Columbine, 
shakes  his  head  from  side  to  side  in  defiance,  quivers  his  hat, 
and  then  leaps  with  one  miraculous  bound  and  disappears  through 
a  clock-face. 

If  ever  London  puts  on  a  suit  of — not  sables — no,  but  gaudy 
habiliments,  it  is  just  a  week  before  what  is  termed  "  Boxing- 
night" — the  night  after  Christmas,  when  all  the  pantomimes 
come  out.  The  huge  metropolis  is  plastered  up  to  its  neck  with 
mammoth  show-bills,  incredible  posters,  and  frightful  announce- 
ments of  the  forthcoming  pieces.  The  Strand,  Chcapside, 
Poultry,  Cornhill,  Oxford-street,  Ilolborn,  and  the  various  im- 
portant thoroughfares,  are  crowded  with  bulletins  in  red,  green, 
and  black  letters,  telling  of  the  "Magic  Mince-pie"  at  such  a 
place;  the  "  Harlequin  Tim  Bobbin1'  at  another;  the  "Fairy 
Florinda  and  the  Swans  of  Pearl"  at  another;   and  so  to  the 


144  DASHES    OF    AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

end  of  the  chapter.  From  Chelsea  to  Epping  Forest,  if  one 
were*to  glance  at  an  old  wall  in  hopes  of  finding  a  cheap  tailor's 
advertisement  whom  you  remembered  advertised  liberally,  and 
therefore  must  be  everywhere,  ten  to  one  but  the  ominous  words 
l-  Green  Monster,"  the  "  Cream-coloured  Imp  of  the  Infernal 
Darkness,"  or  something  else  just  as  ugly  and  suggestive,  would 
stare  you  wickedly  and  unflinchingly  in  the  face.  If  a  stranger 
who  knew  nothing  of  holiday  pantomimes  and  their  idiosyncra- 
sies could  just  one  fine  day  before  Christmas  be  dropped  down 
in  London — say  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Lambeth-walk  on  the 
Surry  side  of  the  river — and  commence  reading  the  titles  on 
the  playbills,  without  pursuing  the  context,  he  would  quickly 
make  up  his  mind  that  he  had  made  a  pilgrimage  to  some 
sanguinary,  enchanted  hotbed  a  little  this  side  of  the  moon, 
instead  of  the  largest  capital  of  the  first  kingdom  of  the  civili- 
zed world.  "We  mean  to  say  that  if  his  sensibilities  were 
to  any  extent  acute,  and  his  misapprehensive  ignorance  corres- 
pondingly opaque,  he  could  not  be  loss  alarmed  than  was  the 
Baron  Munchausan  when  he  saw  his  horse  dangling  to  the  church 
spire,  as  recorded  in  the  scarcely  to  be  believed  adventures  of 
that  extraordinary  personage.  It  is  a  delicate  point  to  touch 
on;  but  if  we  were  a  married  man,  and  the  silken  knot  had 
been  tied  only  half  a  dozen  months,  we  should  really  fear  our 
dear  little  wife's  appearing  on  the  promenade  just  at  this  time, 
for  if  she  were  susceptible  to  the  impulses  of  strange  impres- 
sions, who  knows  but  what  our  first-born  would  have  a  harlequin's 
patch  on  its  arm  instead  of  a  u  straw  berry/'  or  a  miniature  car- 
toon of  a  link  of  sausages  graven  on  the  small  of  its  back,  to 
eternally  remind  our  wife,  when  she  washed  her  ';  dear  little  off- 
spring," of  the  clown  swallowing  those  elongated  but  suggestive 
edibles.  "We  would  not  dwell  on  this  subject  so  long  if  the 
anxious  managers  confined  the  blowing  of  their  spectacular  trum- 
pets to  bill-boards,  old  walls,  the  arches  of  the  bridges,  or  even 
the  interior  of  Hansem  cabs ;  but  their  zeal  not  stopping  here, 


CHRISTMAS   PANTOMIMES.  145 

manifests  itself  in  a  crowd  of  overgrown  one-horse  vans,  with 
letters  the  size  of  a  life-guard,  until  one  is  bewildered  with  titles 
and  magicized  almost  to  death.  In  attempting  to  cross  a  street 
in  a  hurry  one  is  compelled  to  wait  until  a  panoramic  "  Willow* 
Pattern  Plate,"  a  "  King  Charming,"  a  "  Queen  Quiddles," 
and  "  Harlequin  Bowsprit,"  all  in  a  row,  dawdle  out  of  the 
way ;  and  to  go  into  an  omnibus  with  the  hope  of  avoiding  the 
bills  would  be  like  going  to  China  to  dodge  Young  Hyson. 

We  have  heard  the  proportions  of  the  mastodon  extolled  for 
their  amplitude  :  an  elephant,  viewed  through  a  powerful  micro- 
scope, would  "come  out"  considerably  gigantic,  if  the  glasses 
were  in  good  order.  It  is  rumoured  in  conchological  circles 
that  there  are  certain  fish-monsters  residing  in  the  vasty  deep, 
the  bulk  of  which  would  make  even  a  philosopher  open  his  eyes 
with  wonder ;  but  we  never  yet  heard  of  anything  on  land,  or 
in  the  sea — or  even  amphibious,  for  the  matter  of  that — which 
could  compare  in  point  of  magnitude  and  hugeness  with  the 
combined  promises  of  the  managers  of  London,  respecting  their 
holiday  efforts.  Were  each  promise  only  a  grain  of  sand,  so 
numerous  are  they  that,  at  a  moderate  calculation,  there  would 
be  sufficient  to  make  a  new  beach  for  Brighton ;  and  further,  it 
is  our  humble  opinion,  if  it  were  possible  to  convert  each  prom- 
ise into  a  slab  of  some  very  hard  stone,  and  they  could  be  laid 
carefully  one  upon  another,  the  pile  would  soon  be  lost  in  the 
clouds  ;  and  afterwards,  there  would  be  enough  superfluous  slabs 
left  lying  about  to  build  an  edifice  the  size  of  the  Bank  of 
England.  YvTe  trust  this  will  afford  the  reader  soweidea  of  the 
vastness  and  extent  of  the  joint  promises  of  the  London  mana- 
gers about  Christmas.  And  now  a  word  as  to  the  "  titles." 
Mother  Goose's  melodies  were  consumed  long  ago  ;  the  prolific 
Countess  d'Anois  is  undergoing  consumption  by  Blanche  (the 
king  of  punning  rhymesters);  the  "Arabian  Nights''  have  very 
few  leaves  left ;  Count  Hamilton's  mythical  twists  of  fairy  imag- 
ination, and  the  pert  sayings  of  the  day,  are  or  have  been  called 


14G  DASHES    OF    AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

into  requisition  in  furnishing  (or  rather  suggesting)  material  for 
scenic  illustration.  The  airy-brained  dramatist  and  his  co-la- 
bourers then  go  to  work  in  good  earnest ;  and  the  consequences 
are,  at  this  season,  posters  and  pocket-money  are  in  profusion. 

Suppose,  just  for  a  bit  of  fun,  we  digress  here,  and  go  behind 
the  scenes  of  the  play-house,  and  sec  what  those  strange  folks 
that  go  in  and  out  of  the  little  door  are  doing.  Have  you  ever 
been  there  ?  No  ?  Then  come  along — we  have;  and  you  shall 
have  the  benefit  of  our  experience.  AVe  pass  that  cross,  sour- 
countenanced  man,  sitting  in  a  stuffed  seal  at  the  stage-door. 
He  is  the  hall-keeper,  and  is  much  feared  by  spruce  young  gen- 
tlemen who  come  to  inquire  about  the  pretty  little  ballet-girls 
that  bewitch  t'other  sex  with  their  tights  and  spangled  tunics. 
It  has  been  told  us  that,  when  fast  young  men  have  called  to 
leave  three-cornered  biJlcf-duuxiov  their  female  acquaintance 
the  chorus,  that  they  have  slily  slipped  small  coins  into  his 
hand;  and,  without  even  so  much  as  Looking  at  the  donations, 
he  has  simply,  unaffectedly  coughed,  and  promised  that  ••  they 
should  be  mwc  to  get  'em."  These  human  Cerbernses  could 
tell  queer  stories  if  they  were  disposed  to  "unlock  the  secrets 
of  the  prison-house  :*'  and  we  were  thinking  that  the  revelations 
of  a  stage-door  would  not  be  a  bad  notion  it'  the  idea  was  well 
managed. 

Not  to  digress  in  a  digression,  we  take  no  notice  of  the  ill- 
grained  remark  that  the  hall-keeper  made  as  we  passed  him,  and 
threading  a  long  avenue,  full  of  what  can  be  best  described  as 
"one  thing  and  another,''  we  find  ourselves  among  a  number  of 
u  flats,"  pieces  of  old  forests,  bits  of  castles,  and  "  one-halfs"  of 
mansions,  shops,  chambers  and  the  deuce  knows  what.  In  fact, 
we  are  at  the  u.  wings"  of  the  stage,  and  looking  around  we  see 
a  number  of  well-dressed  people  of  both  sexes  chatting  and 
laughing  in  a  careless  off-hand  manner,  while  here  and  there  a 
ray  of  cloudy  light  (like  a  sunbeam  tarnished,  if  such  a  thing 
could  be),  struggles  through  the  crevices  of  a  wilderness  of  what 


CHRISTMAS    PANTOMIMES.  147 

are  technically  termed  "  travellers"  and  "  sky  borders,"  suspend- 
ed over  the  stage,  shedding  a  dull,  sickly  glare  on  the  objects. 
around.  There  is  a  single  man — who  is  near-sighted  and  wears 
spectacles — in  the  orchestra,  humming  a  melody,  and  by  the 
aid  of  a  gaunt  unsuuffed  stamp  of  caudle,  transcribing  it  on  a 
half-sheet  of  greasy  music-paper.  He  is  the  repeteteur,  and  is  ran- 
sacking his  memory  for  scraps  of  popular  airs  to  introduce  in  the 
"  comic  business"  of  the  pantomime,  a  duty  which  the  leader 
has  left  to  his  assistant  because  he  has  displayed  much  tact  at 
adaptation.  A  small  table  is  standing  near  the  foot-lights  at  the 
li  prompt  side"  of  the  stage,  near  which  the  stage-manager — a 
chunky,  pot-stomached  person,  with  a  gruff  voice  and  bright  eye 
— is  standing  with  his  arms  folded  looking  up  the  stage.  A 
half-shabby  man  in  a  slouched  cap  and  round  jacket,  which  smells 
loudly  of  turpentine  and  varnish,  is  standing  by  his  side  engag- 
ed in  conversation.  It  is  rude  to  listen  to  folks'  talk,  but  as 
they  are  evidently  conversing  on  nothing  private  or  special,  we 
will  violate  Chesterfield  for  once,  and  draw  near  and  hear  what 
they  are  saying.  The  stage-manager  has  infused  a  deal  of  im- 
portance in  his  manner,  and  now  speaks.  He  addresses  the 
property-man. 

"  Remember,  Mr.  Brown  (property  men  rarely  have  fanciful 
names),  to  get  those  masks  as  hideous  as  possible  for  the  second 
scene.  Don't  spare  the  rose  pink  and  Dutch  metal  in  the  least, 
for  those  masks  are — mark — the  telling  points  of  the  introduc- 
tory scenes.  Tell  "Wilson  (Wilson  is  the  head  carpenter)  to  see 
that  those  sinks  run  easily,  and  all  the  grooves  had  better  be  oiled. 
The  gauzes,  too,  must  be  overhauled,  for  when  we  used  them  in 
the  'Spirit  of  the  Fountain,'  they  looked  veryBhab."  (Mean- 
ing shabby,  but  the  stage-manager  has  a  habit  of  clipping  his 
words.)  He  continues — "  Let  me  caution  you  now,  while  I  think 
of  it,  in  this  castle  scene  to  blend  the  fires  as  much  as  you  can. 
Don't  get  too  much  red  on  the  water-set,  nor  too  much  green  on 
the  towers.     That  '  goblin  oak1  had  better  come  down  to  the 


148  DASHES    OF    AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

second  •  groove,'  and  let  the  shadows  fall  back,  bang  against  the 
■wall/'  Daring  these  remarks,  the  stage-manager  makes  a  great 
variety  of  motions  with  his  hands  while  in  the  act  of  pointing, 
several  of  which  arc  imitated  by  the  clown  in  the  forthcoming 
piece,  who  is  standing  at  the  wing,  and  who  being  a  great  wag, 
and  considered  apt  at  imitation,  is  always  on  the  alert  to  signal- 
ize himself.  Clowns,  too,  have  another  knack  of  pretending  to 
bump  themselves  against  doors,  much  to  the  surprise  of  innocent 
strangers,  which  clever  deception  they  perform  by  dexterously 
rapping  the  aforesaid  door,  unseen,  with  their  knuekles.  The 
manager,  in  happy  unconsciousness  of  the  imitation,  struts  up 
to  a  "  trap"  which  is  undergoing  repairs,  and  after  looking  care- 
fully down  it,  again  joins  the  property-man. 

u  Where's  AYilson  ?"  lie  asked. 

c'  He's  gone  to  see  about  lumber  for  a  pair  of  '  flats,'  sir," 
is  the  reply. 

"  Have  you  heard  him  speak  of  the  chang< 

"  They're  monstrous  slap-up,"  replies  the  other,  picking  a 
fleck  of  Dutch  metal  from  the  side  of  his  nose.  (It  will  be 
observed  that  this  useful  person  is  not  very  choice  in  his  lan- 
guage.) "  Some  of  the  %  tricks'  are  stunnin',  and  '11  maki 
open  their  hcyes.  That  barley-sheaf  turnin'  into  a  Yankee 
yacht  is  regular  bobbish ;  and  when  the  butter-firkins  ohai 
to  silver  tea-pots,  there'll  be  a  dead  yell  all  over  the  'ouse." 
(Here  the  property-man  points  to  some  object  in  the  flies,  and 
drops  a  remark  touching  a  shower  of  Cupids  during  the  repre- 
sentation of  the  "  Floral  Realms  of  Light/1  but  as  we  did  not 
quite  catch  the  sense  of  the  expression,  we  cannot  conscientiously 
hazard  a  detailed  account  of  this  portion  of  the  dialogue.)  He 
pursues  his  conversation — "  I  was  in  the  paint-room  just  now, 
to  see  that  set  of  clouds  that  Charley  Thompson's  a  doin'  of — 
there's  not  hanythink  can  touch  'em,  sir,  an'  the  Cave  of  'Orrors 
is  as  black  as  the  Docks." 

A  tall  slender  man  at  this  juncture  passes  across  the  stage 


CHRISTMAS    PANTOMIMES.  149 

at  the  back.  He  has  on  canvas  overhauls,  garnished  with 
miscellaneous  daubs  of  color,  as  if  he  had  been  a  target  for 
painted  bullets.  The  stage-manager  beckons  him,  and  they 
retire  to  their  room,  to  talk  over  certain  "matters  and  things" 
concerning  the  scenery  and  pictures  of  the  pantomime.  The 
property-man  has  gone  to  that  dingy,  long,  low  apartment, 
which  is  the  sanctum  where  he  manufactures  canvas  legs  of 
mutton,  stuffed  sticks,  perpetually  red-hot  pokers,  golden  gob- 
lets, rag  babies,  and  sham  puddings  by  the  gross.  We  will 
peep  in,  and  see  what  can  be  denned  in  the  dull  haze  that  per- 
vades the  room.  A  pot  of  glue  is  smoking  over  a  spirit-lamp 
on  a  table,  and  close  beside  it  are  a  number  of  little  books  con- 
taining gold-leaf,  or  something  resembling  it,  and  chips  of  bright 
foil.  A  cart-load  of  paraphernalia  is  "kicking  about"  on  the 
tables,  under  them,  helter-skelter — anywhere.  There  are  wooden 
legs  (generally  used  by  the  old  commodores),  jockey  caps,  old 
spurs,  bits  of  sponge  (much  affected  by  the  villain  of  the  melo- 
dramas to  supply  the  blood  when  he  meets  his  end),  fictitious 
harps  (on  which  many  sweet  imaginary-  melodies  have  been 
played),  Indian  calumets  and  tomahawks,  Chinese  lanterns, 
dancing-jacks,  parti-coloured  umbrellas  (useful  for  "  Paul  Pry" 
or  pantomimes),  artificial  icicles  (warranted  not  to  melt),  crowns 
and  cushions,  beadles'  staffs  and  fairy  wands,  canes,  snuffboxes, 
papier-mache  pound-cakes,  deceptive  lemons,  drawerless  chiffo- 
niers, ingeniously  suppositious  fowls  ready  trussed,  pocket- 
books,  containing  countless  sums  of  imaginative  bank-notes 
(always  carried  by  the  old  uncles  from  India  in  the  comedies), 
and  if  we  were  to  examine  closely,  we  would  see  almost 
every  article,  only  more  or  less  sham  in  its  construction,  met 
with  in  real  life. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  for  us  to  ascend  to  the  paint-room, 
where  several  artists  are  outlining,  laying  on  the  colour,  filling  in, 
and  creating  landscapes  and  "  realms  of  bliss"  in  short  order. 
We  would  only  get  our  trowsers  smeared  if  we  went  up,  and 


150  DASHES   OF    AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

perhaps  interrupt  the  workmen  ;  so,  first  glancing  at  the  front 
of  the  house,  which  is  covered  with  strips  of  muslin,  and  paus- 
ing for  an  instant  just  to  get  a  peep  at  the  face  of  that  pretty 
girl,  the  premiere  coryphee,  who  is  practising  a  coup  in  short 
ekirts  and  faded  round-toed  slippers,  we  will  once  more  seek 
daylight,  and  leave  the  folks  to  rehearse  the  pantomime  with  a 
clear  stage. 

Boxing-night !  the  theatres  are  besieged  with  applicants  for 
box,  pit,  and  gallery.  It  is  not  only  the  rabble  mob  that  have 
turned  out,  but  the  flower  of  the  nobility  arrive  in  close  car- 
riages and  tigered  broughams.  The  private  boxes  sparkle 
with  diamonds — the  pit  is  a  sea  of  heads — and  the  gallery  re- 
minds one  of  the  clatter  that 

"  The  shrouds  make  at  sea  in  a  stiff  tempest." 

Rows  of  pretty,  plump,  cherry-cheeked  children  are  scon 
around  the  family  range  of  boxes,  teasing  thea  mammas  with 
questions,  and  laughing  in  joyous  anticipation  of  the  wk  fun  to 
come."  Tradesmen  and  their  ••  moe-looking"  daughters  abound 
in  the  upper  boxes ;  tall  young  men,  with  daintily-combed 
whiskers,  and  very  large  Beat  rings  on  their  fingers,  are  making 
good  use  of  their  lorgnettes  in  the  "stalls;"  the  gallery  is  ;i 
bewildered  medley  of  dustmen  in  ancle-jacks,  servant-maids, 
wet-nurses  out  of  place,  hawkers  and  greengrocer  boys.  All 
have  come  with  the  one  sole  object  of  having  a  good  long 
laugh,  and  they  generally  accomplish  it.  The  gallery  folks, 
who  are  unfortunately  remindful  of  such  points,  have  taken 
care  to  provide  themselves  with  flasks  of  gin  and  spirits,  which 
they  consult  frequently  during  the  evening.  The  more  elegant- 
bred  private-box  company  have  had  little  hampers  supplied  at 
"  Fortnum  and  Mason's,"  and,  in  the  shape  of  Neufchutel 
cream  cheese,  potted  shrimps  for  sandwiches,  some  marmalade 
and  red  currant  jam  for  the  children,  with  perhaps  just  a  dozen 


CHRISTMAS    PANTOMIMES.  151 

nicely-pressed  biffins,  they  enjoy  a  portable  and  savoury  refresh- 
ment. 

The  English  understand  the  art  of  being  comfortable  under 
all  circumstances,  and  of  all  their  holiday  entertainments,  the 
yearly  pantomime  seems  to  possess  more  charms  than  the  simple 
pastimes  of  domestic  life.  This  is  the  only  spot  on  the  globe 
where  the  drafts  of  the  firm  of  Clown,  Pantaloon,  &c,  are 
freely  honoured  "  at  sight ;"  and  in  no  country  that  we  have 
yet  visited,  did  Harlequin  strike  us  as  more  agile,  Pantaloon 
never  tottered  with  more  maudlin  step,  Clown  was  never  half  so 
droll,  and  Columbine  more  aerial  and  graceful,  than  here.  In 
these  respects,  England  is  truly  "  nierrie."  Martial's  proverb, 
"Risu  inepto  res  ineptior  nulla  est"  is  very  good  in  its  way, 
but  like  many  other  musty  apothegms,  it  loses  its  point  at  the 
Christmas  period.  uRide  si  sapis"  is  much  better,  and  to  be 
preferred;  therefore  let  us  "smile,  and 

"  With  mirth  and  laughter, 
Lot  old  wrinkles  come." 


152  DASHES   OF    AMERICAN   HUMOR. 


THE  UNFORTUNATE  WANT  OF  PRIORITY 


There  is  no  help  for  it — singular  things  will  happen! 

Of  course.  And  if  you've  nothing  better  to  do,  dear  reader, 
lend  us  your  attention  for  a  few  moments. 

Miss  Angelina  Leonora  Lipsy  was  a  sentimental  young  erea- 
turc,  who  had  a  narrow  escape  of  being  beautiful ;  that  is  to 
say,  she  had  dark  lustrous  eyes,  dazzling  white  teeth,  rich  ruby 
lips,  a  chiselled  outline  of  oval  countenance,  but  hang  it  all-- 
her  hair  was  p ictztre&quely  ml!  Cruel  nature!  why  were  ye 
so  bountiful  in  every  other  respect,  to  blight  by  n  crowning  and 
ridiculous  contrast?  While  ye  were  about  it,  why  not  make 
the  job  completer — why  destroy  so  much  harmony  by  a  single 
error?  Had  the  hair  been  deep  brown,  or  blade,  all  would 
have  been  well,  or,  for  the  matter  of  that,  dark  auburn ;  but 
red — unmistakable,  decided,  atrocious  red — oh  !  it  was  too 
bad,  and  we  must  cry  out  against  it.  Nature  ought  to  have 
known  better;  and  when  Miss  Angelina  Leonora  was  launched 
into  vitality,  she  (Nature,  of  course.)  must  have  been  in  a  fit 
of  peevishness,  or  felt  wickedly  nnamiable  at  the  moment. 

And  Miss  Leonora  was  not  only  within  one  of  being  beauti- 
ful, but  we  mayapply  the  same  remark  to  her  accomplishments. 
She  could  execute  crayon  drawings  with  considerable  skill,  and 
showed  grace  in  dancing — but  her  forte  lay  in  the  piano.  This 
was  her  celestial  harbour.  How  bewitchiugly  she  would  have 
sung  if  she  had  not  lisped  !  Her  voice,  a  mezzo-soprano  of  a 
fair  octave  and  a -half,  floated  and  quivered  till  the  heart  leaped 
with  delight.     Then  her  selection  of  pieces — bravuras,  cabalet- 


THE    UNFORTUNATE    WANT    OF    PRIORITY.  153 

tas,  ariettas,  and  ballads  from  operas,  were  heaped  upon  great- 
racks  invented  for  their  reception.  And  Miss  Lipsy'fl  taste- - 
how  varied  it  was,  to  be  sure  !  not  tied  down  to  Beethoven  and 
Mozart,  aud  circling  only  the  difficulties  of  Gliick  and  Doni- 
zetti— by  no  means  !  One  moment  she  would  soar  in  Astrifi- 
amnanto's  prettiest  bit,  and  the  next  twirl  the  dying  tones  of 
'•  Daniel  Tucker.''  It  was  now  Lucia,  and  then  "  Look  ye" — 
from  grave  to  gay — 

"  From  lively  to  serene,''  &c. 

But  our  young  friend,  even  with  the  drawbacks  of  florid  locks 
and  mincing  articulation,  had  lovers  ;  and  it  is  of  these  lovers 
we  would  now  speak.  They  formed  an  acquaintance  with  her 
at  the  same  time  at  an  evening  party,  and  both  had  fallen  in 
love  with  her  at  the  same  moment.  Their  six  eyes  came  in 
simultaneous  contact — Love's  telegraph  was  at  work — and  it 
would  seem  there  was  power  sufficient  in  her  two  to  play  the 
mischief  with  their  four.  It  was  a  case  of  madly  mutual  love, 
without  the  graceful  benefit  of  priority.     So  it  stood. 

The  younger  of  the  suitors  was  a  Mr.  Thompson  Thompsons 
— a  poet,  gentleman  on  town,  and  general  beau.  lie  gloried  in 
plaid  trowsers,  salmon-coloured  braces,  dare-devil  tile,  and,  in 
fact — was  fast !  Between  ourselves  and  the  post,  dear  reader, 
he  was  {he  favoured  one  / 

The  other,  a  certain  James  Crack,  or  as  he  was  called  for 
shortness.  "  Jim  Crack,"  a  watchmaker  by  occupation ;  a 
journeyman  that  could  always  earn  his  fifteen  dollars  a  week  as 
easily  as  "  turn  his  hand  over,"  if  he  would  only  a  stick  to 
work."  But  there  was  the  trouble — he  loved  women  better 
than  watches,  and  preferred  lips  to  levers.  Strange  that  such 
things  are,  and — 

,;  Overcome  us  like  a  summer's " 

These  personages  wrere  friends,  or,  more  properly,  acquaint- 
ances ;  and  though  it  was  heart-consuming  for  each  to  know 


154  DASHES    OF    AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

that  the  other  loved  the  same  object,  yet  the  passion  had  been 
kindled  at  the  same  moment  and  in  the  same  place.  Here  each 
felt  the  unfortunate  want  of priority  ! 

u  Crack,  can't  we  arrange  it  somehow  ?"  Thompsons  would 
say  appealingly,  anxious  to  buy  off  the  love  of  his  rival;  'I 
think  I  love  her  bettor  than  you.1' 

;<  I'm  confident  you  don't,"  Crack  would  reply;  I'd  go 
through  fire  and  water  to  serve  her." 

"  I'd  go  the  water,  because  I  can  swim,"  Thompsons  would 
add ;  but  for  the  fire — I'd  rather  decline  that,  as  I'm  anything 
but  a  salamander." 

It  was  the  custom  of  the  couple  to  meet  every  other  evening 
at  a  bowling  saloon  in  Broadway  ;  and  some  six  weeks  after  the 
match  of  passion  had  been  ignited,  Crack — who  was  sitting 
moodily  in  a  fauteuil  scanning  his  finger-nails,  while  Thomp- 
son? was  rattling  away  in  praise  of  a  now  ballad  he  had  just 
written,  in  which  constancy  and  devotion  were  prominently 
brought  forward — started  up  as  if  possessed  of  a  brilliant  idea, 
and  confronted  his  fellow-in-l< 

"  Thompsons,  I've  a  grand  thought  popping  through  me." 

<;Is  it  possible?!1 

"  Yes ;  but  first  allow  me  to  ask — as  far  as  you  can  be,  under 
the  circumstances — you're  my  friend,  arc  you  not  ?'' 

"  How  can  you  ask  ?" 

"  Good.     Now  listen  to  what  I  say." 

11  Both  cars  are  particularly  wide  open." 

<:  "We  love  Angelina  Leonora,  do  we  not?" 

Thompsons'  brow  lowered. 

11  Why  don't  you  answer  ?"  asked  Crack. 

"  Alas !  James  Crack,  a  regard  for  the  truth,  instilled  into 
my  mind  when  I  was  still  young  and  tender  in  years,  compels 
me  to  say  that  we  do.  • 

"  It's  a  hard  case,"  remarked  Crack. 

"  Devilish  hard." 


THE    UNFORTUNATE    WANT    OF    PRIORITY.  155 

"We  agreed  to  woo  her  alternately  for  six  weeks." 

"  Yes,  and  she  then  promised  to  declare  her  choice." 

"  But  I  fear  she  hain't  the  nerve  to  make  it,"  pursued  the 
elder  of  the  lovers.  tl  And  between  you  and  I,  I  can't  live  in 
this  frightful  state  of  excitement  any  longer.  I  must  determine 
upon  something,  one  way  or  the  other,  or  I  shall  be  driven  out 
of  my  senses.  I  often  think  I'll  throw  myself  at  her  feet,  and 
declare  that  I  can't  live  without  her." 

u  Good  gracious !"  cried  Thompsons,  sportively,  "  hav'nt  you 
got  that  far  yet  ,•  why  I  did  that  the  second  week  I  knew  her. 
In  met,  '  I  perish  for  thy  heart  and  hand,'  is  the  title  of  my  very 
last  ballad.  I  sent  her  a  copy,  with  her  name  engraved  in  a 
halo  of  fat  little  cupids  waving  torches." 

"  Ah !"  sighed  Crack,  dismally,  u.  there's  where  you  have  me 
on  the  hip.  Your  ballads  will  play  the  devil  with  my  chances,  I 
fear.     Music  is  the  food  of  love." 

"  Yes,  and  she  frequently  protests  she  could  live  on  it,"  re- 
marked the  ballad-monger.  Fancy  her  breakfasting  on  a  sym- 
phony, lunching  on  a  rondo,  and  then,  for  supper,  taking  half-a- 
dozen  pickled  polkas  and  a  stewed  overture !  Curious  diet, 
eh?" 

"  But,  joking  apart,  Thompsons,  you  have  decided  advan- 
tages over  me,"  said  Crack,  mournfully. 

"  But  you  mustn't  forget  one  thing,"  consoled  Thompsons, 
with  a  complacent  smile — "  poets  are  very  poor,  and  she  knows 
that.     You've  more  money  than  me." 

"  But  in  love  poetry  goes  farther  than  money,  don't  it  ?" 

"  Not  always ;  give  me  rhyno  before  rhyme  any  time,"  re- 
plied Thompsons.  '•  But  touching  the  idea  that  popped  through 
you." 

"  True,  true — I'd  forgotten  it.  I'm  quite  amiss  here  to-day," 
gaid  the  quondam  lover,  smiting  his  forehead ;  "  my  idea  sug- 
gests itself  in  the  shape  of  a  proposition — " 

11  And  that  proposition  is —  ?" 


155 


DASHES    OF    AMERICAN    HOIOtt. 


"  To  play  a  game  of  bowls  for  the  lady;  and  whichever  gets 
the  least  number  of  pins  shall  resign  in  favor  of  the  other." 

44  That's  a  subject  for  consideration,"  exclaimed  Thompsons; 
44  for,  if  I  remember  aright,  you  are  the  better  player  of  the 
two." 

44  I  think  we  are  well  matched ;  and,  besides,  I  shall  be  as 
nervous  as  a  leaf." 

"  If  you'll  promise  me  that,  I'll  make  the  bargain  with  you," 
said  Thomsons,  who  felt  within  himself  he  would  beat  his  antag- 
onist, but  did  not  care  to  exhibit  his  self-reliance. 

"Seriously,  Thompsons,"  pleaded  Crack,  "I'm  harag 
beyond  measure  at  the  uncertainty  of  my  position  with  3Iiss 
Lipsy,  and  now  is  the  time  to  take  a  step  for  bettering  our  con- 
dition. Let  us  roll,  and  abide,  like  men,  by  the  decision.  You 
know,  as  well  as  I  can  tell  you,  that  two  lovers  for  one  lady  is 
absurd — she  can't  marry  us  both." 

44  Certainly  not.  Now  we  must  have  a  clear  understanding: 
if  I  knock  down  more  pins  than  you — 

44  I  resign  in  your  favor,  if  it  breaks  my  heart,"  said  Crack; 
14  and  if  you  lose,  you  do  liken 

ri  It's  a  bargain  !"  cried  Thompsons,  and  they  shook  hands  by 
way  of  seeming  impressiv* 

';  How  many  balls  shall  each  roll?"  suggestively  asked 
Crack. 

44  Three  each." 

"  Good  !     You  lead  off,  and  I'll  keep  account." 

44  No,  as  you  suggested  the  idea,  you  must  begin." 

After  some  discussion,  Crack  divested  himself  of  his  coat 
and  hat,  and  breathlessly  proceeded  to  roll.  His  eyes  wan- 
dered as  he  glanced  up  the  alley,  but  conquering  for  a  moment 
his  agitation,  the  ball  dashed  towards  the  pins.  Only  four 
fell !  " 

44  Bravo!"   shouted  Thompsons,  capering  with  delight;   44 1, 
can  beat  that." 


THE   UNFORTUNATE    WANT    OF    PRIORITY.  157 

The  pins  were  restored,  and  the  poet  took  his  turn.  He 
dislodged  seven. 

Crack  groaned  audibly. 

"  Now,  go  it  again,"  said  Thompsons. 

The  luck  was  better  for  Crack  this  time.  The  whole  ten 
fell  with  one  crash. 

"  Well,  I  say,  Jim,  that's  walkin'  into  them  like  Wellington 
did  at  Waterloo,"  cried  Thompsons. 

"  Rather  better,  I  must  say,"  replied  Crack. 

"  Here  goes  my  second  effort — b-a-n-g !"  exclaimed  the  poet, 
with  a  sanguinary  rush,  which  succeeded  in  precipitating  six. 
"  Come,  that's  not  so  bad — six  and  seven  are  thirteen.  Now 
I'll  follow  my  go,  and  have  done  with  it.  Ye  Gods  inspire 
me  !"  and  he  rolled.     Twenty-one  was  his  sum  total. 

Crack  had  now  one  last  chance,  and  with  a  desperate  plunge 
he  threw,  rather  than  rolled,  the  ball  that  was  to  govern  his 
fate.  It  seemed  to  coquette  with  the  pins  for  an  instant,  and 
then  agitate  their  positions,  till  seven  fell.  He  drew  a  long 
breath,  and  u  stared  a  stare,"  in  which  hope,  anxiety,  doubt, 
fear,  and  joy  were  all  mixed  up  like  piccalili  in  a  jar.  Strange 
circumstance  !     They  had  alike  succeeded — it  was  a  tie  ! 

"  I  think,  without  perverting  the  truth,  I  may  say  that's  odd," 
remarked  Thompsons. 

"  I  was  certain  I  should  have  beaten  you,"  Crack  said. 

"  And  I  was  sanguine  that  I  should  win.  It  would  not  be 
inappropriate  to  call  that  a  coincidence,  eh?"  observed  the 
poet. 

"  We  stand  now  just  where  we  begun,"  proceeded  Crack ; 
and  in  order  to  make  it  final,  let  one  ball  decide.  My  blood  is 
up,  and  I'll  begin." 

"  Go  it !"  coincided  Thompsons. 

Crack  then  delivered  a  "  brief  but  deep"  prayer  to  himself, 
assumed  an  attitude  something  similar  to  the  Grecian  Ajax 
when  he  defies  the  elements  above,  and  threw  his  energy  and 


158  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

love  into  the  ball  with  one  mighty  hurl.  Confusion  to  his 
efforts !  only  five  toppled  over,  and  the  ball  seemed  to  groan 
with  exertion  as  it  fell  inanimately  among  the  straw.  Thomp- 
sons fairly  danced  with  delight  at  his  rival's  brntum  fulmen. 

"  Laugh  on,  my  good  fellow,  upbraided  Crack,  with  a  dismal 
attempt  to  smile,  whic  was  only  a  melancholy  failure — 
"  laugh  on ;  but  it  would  be  too  good  a  joke  if  five  was  the  win- 
ning number." 

lt  Yes,  it  would,"  retorted  Thompsons  confidently,  u  but  I 
don't  mean  it  shall.  What's  five  to  beat  ?  Boy,  set  them  up !" 
he  exclaimed,  and,  measuring  the  distance  well  with  his  eye, 
and  opening  his  fingers,  he  carefully  dropped  the  ball,  and  it  ran 
surely  to  the  goal,  and  dislodged  six  ! 

Crack  almost  tore  his  hair  with  excitement  ;  and  the  poet, 
making  a  rush  for  his  coat  and  hat,  exclaimed,  in  a  voice  of 
triumph —  • 

"  I  win  by  one  pin  !  The  gods  be  praised — shr  is  mine  ! 

The  vermilion-haired  beauty  was  rather  glad  than  otherwise 
at  the  result  of  this  game;  and  although  she  conceived  it  to  be 
a  great  liberty  to  decide  in  sueh  ;i  vulgar  maimer  which  should 
claim  the  privilege  of  asking  for  her  hand,  yet  she  favoured  Mr. 
Thompsons  because  he  was  younger  than  her  other  admirer,  and 
wrote  pretty  poetry  all  about  her  eyes,  her  lips,  &c.,  always 
avoiding  the  mention  of  her  ruby  ringlets,  which  he  ever 
ingeniously  and  neatly  took  the  precaution  to  pass  over  in  elo- 
quent silence. 

We  hope  that  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Thompsons  are  happy.  Their 
case  illustrates  the  tribulations  attendant  upon  the  want  of  a 
perfect  priority  in  love. 


159 


THAT  MYSTERIOUS  BANDBOX. 


On  the  goodly  ship  Mayflower — not  the  original  craft  so 
unseveringly  held  by  the  anchor  of  events  with  recollections  of 
the  Pilgrims  and  Plymouth  Bocks  by  any  kind  of  means,  we 
would  have  the  reader  understand,  as  we  are  as  far  from  a  Methu- 
selah, we  are  glad  to  say — bound  for  the  port  of  Liverpool, 
several  years  since,  we  found  ourselves  a  passenger  in  company 
with  a  dozen  other  people  of  various  ages  and  capacities  in  life. 
Among  those  in  the  cabin  was  a  fine  old  lady  by  the  name  of 
Mrs.  Jewell,  who  had  inherited  some  property  from  a  relative 
in  the  west ;  and  being  the  last  branch  of  the  family  tree  left 
in  America,  had  determined  upon  visiting  England,  for  the 
purpose  of  discovering,  if  possible,  an  only  brother,  whom  she 
supposed  to  be  living  somewhere  in  Lancashire,  but  from  whom 
she  had  not  heard  in  twenty-seven  years,  and  then  only  in  an 
epistle  of  four  lines — which  letter,  by  the  way,  with  a  sister's 
fondness,  she  had  still  preserved  and  treasured  in  its  gradual 
obliteration.     It  was  torn,  and  patched,  and  pasted,  and  just 

I  hung  together  ;  yet  there  it  was,  enfolded  in  her  bosom,  sacred 
in  its  tatters,  every  word  graven  on  her  heart. 

She  was  an  odd  old  lady  was  Mrs.  Jewell,  round,  rosy,  and  un- 
sophisticated ;  full  of   cranks  and  whimsies ;    as   humorously 

j  eccentric  and  as  purely  benevolent  as  it  was  possible  to  be. 
She  dressed  in  a  faded  peach-tinted  gown,  and  her  hair,  which 
was  rapidly  silvering,  was  arranged  in  a  manner  entirely  her 
own — both  hair  and  manner,  for  the  matter  of  that,  for  she  had 

I  no  occasion  for  a  wig;  and  if  ever  there  existed  an  old  lady 


160  DASHES    OF    AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

who  seemed  perfectly  at  peace  with  all  human  kind,  Mrs.  Jewell 
certainly  seemed  that  very  person.  Her  only  attendant  was  a 
fat,  drowsy  maid,  who  walked  about  the  deck  with  her  eyes 
half  closed,  and  who  was  just  as  happy  as  her  mistress,  provid- 
ed she  had  nothing  to  do.  Exertion  seemed  to  disagree  with 
her,  and  indolence  and  she  were  on  the  best  possible  terms — in 
fact,  we  may  say,  in  joint  partnership.  An  effort  cost  her  a 
pang  while  slumber  had  only  to  tap  at  her  eyelids  to  be  joy- 
fully admitted.     A  sad  lazybones  was  Maria  Mables. 

The  only  care  that  Mrs.  Jewell  seem*  <1  to  haw.  was  that  her 
poor  Maria  would  get  sick  and  be  "  carried  off"  by  some  fever 
or  the  other,  though  she  had  no  seeming  reason  on  earth  to 
harbour  the  feeling,  for  the  lazy  maid  was  bursting  with  good 
health,  and  her  ruddy  checks  shone  like  a  great  round  red 
apple.  But  Mrs.  Jewell  must  have  a  doubt  perpetually  in  her 
mind  on  some  subject  or  the  other,  no  matter  how  often  she 
changed  it;  and  the  object  of  her  solicitude  when  we  happened 
to  make  her  acquaintance  was  the  health  of  her  maid  She 
kept  continually  making  her  swallow  ten  drops  of  this  or  ten 
drops  of  that — black,  brown,  or  yellow  mixtures — though  the 
poor  maid  protested  she  was  not  ill,  and  stuck  to  it,  that  her 
health  would  bear  the  minutest  investigation.  It  was  no  use, 
however ;  Mrs.  Jewell's  whim  had  manifested  itself  in  a  violent 
motherly  anxiety,  and  fat  Maria  was  doomed  to  put  up  with 
the  consequences. 

"  There,  it  is  no  use  of  your  telling  me  that  you  feel  well ; 
I  know  much  better  than  you  can  hope  to,"  the  old  lady  would 
say  placidiy,  and  stop  her  knitting  to  feel  Maria's  pulse. 
"  Your  pulse  circulates  too  quickly  for  your  age,  and  your 
tongue  is  furred  at  the  tip.  Bring  me  up  that  flat  vial  out  of 
my  basket — now  go  along,  and  don't  stop  staring  at  that  ugly 
sailor,  but  do  as  I  tell  you." 

And  in  less  than  ten  minutes  the  maid  was  a  martyr  to  ano- 
ther ten  drops  of  something  brown  that  would  be  the  saving  of 
her. 


THAT    MYSTERIOUS    BANDBOX.  161 

When  the  weather  was  fine,  the  old  lady  used  to  sit  upon 
deck  near  the  wheel-house,  accompanied  by  Maria,  and  a  largo 
red  bandbox,  pierced  with  small  holes,  about  which  she  seemed 
to  be  vastly  particular.  She  was  rarely  seen  without  the  box, 
and  the  box  never  without  her,  until  it  was  whispered  about 
among  the  passengers  that  the  old  lady  carried  her  fortune  in 
it,  though  a  remarkably  queer  place  to  carry  a  fortune,  as  all 
admitted ;  but  eccentricity  has  strange  ways  of  developing  it- 
self, and  we  agreed  that  this  must  be  one  of  its  ways — setting 
all  ultra-probabilities  aside  for  the  nonce. 

And  yet  she  and  her  red  box  were  so  constant  in  their  com- 
panionship, that  there  seemed  to  exist  a  tacit  feeling  among  us 
all  that  it  would  have  been  a  species  of  prying  profanity  to 
question  the  old  lady  as  to  its  contents  ;  though  curiosity  had 
been  manifested  in  a  variety  of  forms,  from  which  we  plead  no 
exemption. 

Could  it  contain  a  parcel  of  old  parchment  wills  about  a 
•  quantity  of  unclaimed  property ;  or  was  it  merely  the  curious 
J  repository  of  a  few  scattered  baubles  that  her  brother  had  once 
I  possessed,  and  which  she  was  treating  with  the  same  devotional 
\  care  that  she  bestowed  on  his  old  faded  letter  ?     Perhaps  in  the 
wildness  of  her  fantastic  whimsicality  she  looked  upon  it  as  an 
inanimate  friend,  and  invested  it  with  a  dreamy  individuality, 
such  as  a  profound  psychologist  can  only  understand.     Though 
the  old  lady,  if  the  truth  must  be  told,  looked  very  little  like  a 
person  who  ever  troubled  her  mind  about  such  impressions  as 
we  have  been  talking  about ;  certain  it  was,  however,  that  she 
regarded  her  box  with  no  common  interest,  and  still  more  cer- 
tain was  it  that  no  one  ever  had  to  do  with  it  save  the  maid  and 
herself. 

We  had  been  out  at  sea  about  a  week  when  she  took  another 
whim  under  her  wing,  of  whicli  we  unfortunately  were  the  inno- 
cent victim.  Not  content  with  dosing  her  lazy  servitor,  she  one 
day  at  dinner  made  up  her  mind  that  our  appetite  was  too  ex- 


162  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

tensive,  and  immediately  laid  out  a  series  of  plans  to  curtail  it, 
nolens  volens,  just  as  we  might  happen  to  fancy  her  maternal 
teachings. 

We  were  being  helped  to  potage — or,  in  ungarnished  Saxon, 
soup  was  being  given  us,  and  we  observed  that  the  old  lady  fol- 
lowed the  dish  with  her  little  gray  eyes,  and  seemed  revolving 
something  in  her  mind. 

"  You'll  excuse  me,"  said  she,  in  a  strong  motherly  tone, 
which  rather  frightened  us  at  the  moment ;  "  but  I'm  certain 
that  soup  is  bad  for  you.     I'm  confident  of  it." 

We  balanced  the  spoon  on  our  forefinger,  and  looked  her  fuD 
in  the  face.  u  Why  worse  for  mo  than  anybody  else,"  we  ask 
ed  inquiringly. 

u  Your  constitution  requires  solids.  Soup  is  too  meagre  foi 
your  delicate  frame,"  she  replied,  with  imperturbable  intcntness, 
which  elicited  a  dozen  sly  titters  around  the  table.  "  You  want 
solids,  and  very  little  of  them.  Too  much  food  is  poisonous  to 
your  constitution." 

We  were  never  aware  until  that  moment  that  our  constitution 
was  dangerously  delicate ;  and  we  were  puzzled  to  know  why 
the  old  lady  had  singled  out  our  own  particular  constitution  to 
study  in  preference  to  a  dozen  others  around  her.  We  suppos- 
ed it  to  be  a  mere  case  of  fatality,  and  eat  a  hearty  dinner  in  her 
very  face.  She  shook  her  head  deprecatingly,  and  seemed  to  be 
pained  at  our  persistance ;  but  as  it  was  clearly  a  case  of  appe- 
tite versus  imagination,  we  let  the  former  have  its  way,  and  it 
came  off  victorious. 

Finally  she  put  aside  her  whims  with  her  shoes,  and  took  a  new 
one  with  them  in  the  morning.  Among  other  sudden  discover- 
ies she  fancied  that  the  second  mate  would  look  well  with  his 
hair  curled,  and  advised  him  by  all  means  to  cultivate  the  fash- 
ion ;  but  the  tar  having  about  as  much  "notion  of  ringlets  as  a 
sperm  whale  has  of  crochet,  thanked  her  for  her  civility,  and 
assured  her  "  that  if  he  got  his  figure-head  larded  and  brushed 
once  a  week  he  thought  himself  lucky." 


THE   MYSTERIOUS   BANDBOX.  163 

On  another  occasion,  when  the  sea  was  extremely  rough,  she 
sat  on  deck  watching  the  man  at  the  wheel,  thinking,  among 
other  amiable  things,  how  hard  the  "  poor  creeters  had  to  work 
for  their  living,"  when  the  captain  passed  by  to  give  some  orders 
at  the  bow. 

Captain,"  said  she  mildly  ;  "  Captain,  I  want  to  ask  a  favour 
of  you." 

"Well,  Madam?" 

M  You  know,  Captain,  I've  a  very  good  heart,  and  can't  bear 
to  have  people  suffer.  Do  you  see  that  poor  thing  ?"  pointing  to 
the  man  at  the  wheel. 

"  Yes ;  what  of  him  ?"  The  Captain  spoke  rather  sharp,  be- 
ing in  a  hurry. 

"  Well,  I  can't  help  noticing  the  poor  fellow.  He's  got  on  a 
damp  shirt,  and  I'm  terribly  afraid  he'll  catch  cold,  Do  let  mo 
tend  that  round  thing  while  he  runs  down  and  puts  on  some  dry 
linen !" 

It  was  in  vain  that  a  spruce  young  gentleman,  in  a  white  cra- 
vat, endeavoured  to  suborn  the  fat  servant  as  to  the  contents  of 
the  bandbox.  He  offered  her  an  electro-plated  shawl-pin  that 
wonderfully  took  her  fancy,  and  caused  her  to  open  her  eyes 
perfectly  wide  (so  he  avowed  in  our  state-room),  a  feat  that  her 
drowsy  stupor  had  never  permitted  her  to  execute  in  our  pres- 
ence. Several  schemes  were  contrived  by  half-a-dozen  of  the 
passengers,  whose  waggishness  and  curiosity  had  so  allied,  that 
more  than  a  joke  was  the  object.  But  they  were  always  defeat- 
ed ;  the  old  lady  seemed  to  be  in  the  way  at  the  very  moment 
the  deed  was  to  be  done ;  once,  in  fact,  she  caught  them  with 
their  hands  on  the  lid,  and  such  a  lecture  and  report  to  the  Cap- 
tain followed  as  she  alone  could  frame. 

But  the  secret  was  soon  to  be  revealed.  Ye  laws  of  merrie 
England  were  destined  to  allay  the  inquisitive  spirit  of  inquiry 
now  so  generally  rife  among  both  passengers  and  crew.  Th© 
ordeal  was  not  yet  passed. 


164  DASHES    OF    AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

We  touched  the  shores  of  Liverpool,  and.  after  the  usual  bus- 
tle and  banging,  farewells,  adieus,  regrets,  congratulations  and 
confusion  incidental  to  an  arrival,  we  were  directed  to  the 
Custom-house,  in  order  to  superintend  the  examination  of  lug- 
gage. Everybody  looked  about  for  Mrs.  Jewell,  and  after  a 
considerable  lapse  of  time  she  and  her  servant  made  their  ap- 
pearance on  deck,  bearing  the  red  bandbox,  and  looking  about 
with  evident  satisfaction  to  find  the  coast  so  clear.  As  she 
approached  the  gangway,  at  least  six  of  the  passengers — who 
had  lurked  in  ambush  for  a  piece  of  fun — stepped  forward  and 
offered  to  assist  them  in  carrying  the  box.  She  thanked  them 
courteously,  though  half  suspecting  the  motive  that  prompted 
their  readiness,  and  all  they  could  do  was  to  follow  her  to  the 
Customs,  and  wink  at  the  maid  now  and  then  when  she  turned 
around  to  see  if  they  were  making  fun  of  her  walk,  she  having 
heard  one  of  them  wickedly  say  that  "  Maria  wiggle-waggled  like 
t  duck." 

At  the  Custom-house  we  found  a  pyramid  of  trunks,  boxes, 
packages  and  parcels  undergoing  the  searching  process.  The 
usual  number  of  discoveries  were  made  in  the  way  of  tobacco, 
reprints  and  articles  looked  upon  as  mildly  contraband,  much  to 
the  annoyance  of  the  owners.  We  remember  one  man  had  his 
boots  stuffed  with  cigars  to  such  an  extent  that  he  could  scarcely 
loeomote.  One  of  the  examiners — concordia  discors — an  ob- 
servant, good-humoured  official — from  some  cause,  suspected  the 
concealment,  He  did  not  affect  to  notice  it,  however,  but,  on  a 
slight  pretence,  led  the  fellow  about  through  various  apartments 
until  his  little  stock  of  cigars  was  crushed  and  ground  to  a  pow- 
der. Another  youngster — a  bardling,  en  route  for  Venice,  to 
poetize  in  gondolas — had  brought  with  him  at  least  forty  vol- 
umes of  poets,  from  Spenser,  of  <:  Faery  Queen"  celebrity,  to 
Tennyson,  all  of  which  bore  "  New-York"  on  the  imprints. 
Notwithstanding  the  poor  rhymester  quoted  a  dozen  strong 
phrases  from  Shakespeare  and  Byron  to  show  his  contempt,  the 


THE  MYSTERIOUS  BANDBOX.        '      165 

stony-hearted  officers,  whom  poetry  could  not  reach,  took  the 
volumes  in  charge,  and  threw  them  in  a  heap  on  a  shelf  behind 
the  searching-platform. 

Mrs.  Jewell  was  in  a  dreadful  way  lest  they  should  rumple 
her  caps  and  laces,  and  hovered  about  her  trunks  in  intense 
alarm.  The  maid  was  half  asleep,  and  did  not  seem  to  worry 
herself  about  one  very  convulsed  bundle  that  contained  her 
wardrobe.  She  merely  followed  her  mistress  about,  maintain- 
ing a  tight  grasp  of  the  bandbox  entrusted  to  her  care. 

At  length  Mrs.  Jewell's  things  were  announced  ready  for  ex- 
amination. She  furnished  the  keys  of  the  trunks,  and  answered 
the  questions  that  were  put  to  her,  the  upshot  of  which  was  that 
she  had  nothing  on  which  she  wished  to  pay  duty.  The  trunks 
were  re-arranged,  and  all  pronounced  correct,  when,  as  she  was 
preparing  to  leave,  the  officer  espied  the  bandbox  aforesaid,  and 
called  the  fat  maid  to  him.  She  immediately  grew  pale,  and 
handed  it  to  her  mistress,  which  only  served  to  awaken  the  offi- 
cial's zeal — no  difficult  matter  where  a  little  fraud  is  suspected. 
The  old  lady  grasped  the  box,  and,  approaching  the  platform  in 
the  Pompadeur  style,  curtsied  in  the  most  elaborate  manner — 

"  If  you  please,  sir,"  said  she,  in  a  tone  of  distress,  "  I'd 
rather  you  wouldn't  open  this.  I'm  only  a  poor  lone  widow ; 
and — and" — 

"But,  madam,"  said  this  fuctionary,  taking  the  box  out  of  her 
arms,  and  winking  at  a  brother  official  who  was  investigating  a 
dainty  parcel  of  baby-linen  that  belonged  to  a  newly-married 
couple,  "  you  must  excuse  me.  It's  against  the  law  to  pass  any 
covered  goods — so  run  the  conditions." 

"  But,  sir,  I  assure  you  it's  not  goods — at  least,  not  of  any 
particular  importance.  I  know  her  Majesty  wouldn't  care  if 
she  knew  it.     0,  please,  sir,  don't  open  it — don't !" 

<:  But,  madam,  if  it's  nothing  you  don't  care  about,  you  cer- 
tainly can't  have  any  objection  to  let  me  see  it." 

"  N-n-no,  n-o,  no,"  stammered  she;  "but,  at  the  same  time, 


166  DASHES   OF    AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

there  are  things  that  ladies  are  obliged  to  take  "with  them  that 
the  world  isn't  obliged  to  see;  and  I've  been  told  that  what  I've 
got  in  that  box,  ships  will  not  carry  on  any  account.  0,  don't 
open  it,  sir,  after  I've  got  it  so  far  !" 

By  this  time  the  officer's  duty  was  not  only  at  stake,  but  his 
curiosity  was  likewise  disturbed,  and  untying  the  knot  on  the 
top  of  the  box,  he  removed  the  lid,  and  out  jumped  with  a  ter- 
rific leap  a  huge  black  torn  cat,  frightenened  out  of  its  life  at 
the  strange  faces  round,  and  alighted  upon  the  contraband  poets, 
causing  Shelley,  Crabbe,  and  the  rest  of  them,  to  tumble  upon 
the  floor  in  a  manner  sufficient  to  jumble  all  the  metaphor  into 
one  chaotic  antithesis. 

"  0  catch  him  !  Poor  Tip  !  Catch  him  !"  shrieked  the  old 
lady.     "  He's  my  darling — my  pet !" 

Instantly  half-a-dozen  shabby  lads,  active  and  officious,  made 
a  grand  scamper  after  puss ;  but  he  had  managed  to  scent  out  a 
nook  that  defied  discovery,  and  the  boys  were  compelled  to  give 
it  up  as  a  particular  "  bad  job."  The  fat  maid,  who  during  this 
scene  was  talking  to  the  "  white  cravat"  of  the  passage,  assured 
him  that  her  mistress  was  under  the  firm  impression  that  sea  cap- 
tains were  superstitious  about  taking  cats  to  sea,  and  had  inno- 
cently learned  that  they  refused  to  have  them  at  any  price. 
Old  Mrs.  Jewell,  it  Beems,  worshipped  little  ebon  "  Tip,"  as  she 
named  his  catship,  and  had  contrived  the  ventilated  bandbox, 
with  the  view  of  positively  smuggling  him  across.  This  was  the 
mystery,  then,  that  a  whole  ship's  crew  had  been  panting  to  un- 
ravel. A  villainous  black  torn  cat  at  the  bottom  of  the  secret, 
and  yet  no  one  had  been  sufficiently  profound  to  "  smell  the 
rat !" 

The  fat  maid  joined  in  the  hunt,  and  thought  she  saw  two  balls 
of  fire  shining  behind  a  regiment  of  bales  in  one  of  the  ante- 
rooms. On  examination  the  balls  of  fire  were  nothing  more 
than  a  couple  of  lumps  of  bright  anthracite  that  the  sun  had 
somehow  or  the  other  gleamed  upon. 


THE  MYSTERIOUS  BANDBOX.  167 

The  old  lady  followed  her  luggage  out  of  the  Custom-house 
with  a  sad  expression  of  face.  To  lose  her  pet  after  all  her 
trouble  and  concealment  on  shipboard  was  exasperating  in  the 
extreme.  She  thought  puss  very  ungrateful  to  run  away  from 
her,  considering  the  pangs  she  had  borne  for  his  safety,  and  ven- 
tured to  assert  that  the  next  mistress  he  got  would  not  look 
after  his  welfare  as  she  had  done  from  the  time  he  had  been 
nothing  more  than  a  wee  kitten. 

One  of  the  ragged  urchins,  with  a  precocious  desire  to  specu- 
late on  her  misery,  followed  Mrs.  Jewell,  and  wanted  to  know 
what  she  would  give  in  case  the  cat  could  be  found  ? 

11  Ten  English  shillings,"  said  the  benevolent  old  creature  with 
a  tear  in  her  eye. 

"  I'll  search  Liverpool  over,  but  what  I  has  it,"  said  the  youth. 
"  I  s'pose  any  black  cat  '11  do  as  looks  like  the  old  'un  ?" 

a  No,  I  must  have  my  poor  Tip,  or  none.  He's  jet  black? 
with  a  white  spot  near  his  right  smeller,"  promptly  responded 
Mrs.  Jewell. 

These  facts  were  communicated  to  at  least  a  dozen  other  spe- 
culative youngsters,  who,  dazzled  by  the  munificence  of  the 
reward,  went  to  work  in  good  earnest,  and  before  night  the  dis- 
tressed lady  was  waited  on  by  at  least  twenty  different  youths 
with  twenty  different  black  cats,  all  bearing  a  prodigious  resem- 
blance to  Tip,  and  yet  differing  somewhat  in  their  feline  expres- 
sions. The  old  lady  got  so  bewildered  by  the  "  striking 
likenesses"  to  her  late  property,  that  she  could  not  have  clearly 
recognized  the  real  puss  had  it  in  reality  made  its  appearance 
with  the  rest  of  the  applicants.  In  the  end,  she  compromised 
her  feelings  by  purchasing  one  and  making  a  pet  of  it  at  a 
hazard,  in  the  hope  that  it  would  prove  as  amiable  as  her  late 
darling,  but  ungrateful  Tip. 


168  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 


HOLIDAY     TIMES. 


We  need,  not  tell  the  reader  that  the  general  manner  of  cele- 
brating Christmas  Day  is  much  the  same  wherever  professors 
of  the  Christian  faith  are  found,  and  the  United  States,  as  the 
great  transatlantic  offshoot  of  Saxon  principles,  would  be  the 
first  to  conserve  the  traditional  ceremonies  handed  down  from 
time  immemorial  by  our  canonical  progenitors  of  the  east. 
But  every  nation  has  its  idiocratic  notions,  minute  and  other- 
wise, and  it  is  not  strange  that  the  Americans,  as  a  creative 
people,  have  peculiar  and  varied  ways  of  their  own  in  keeping 
this,  the  most  remarkable  da}-  in  the  Calendar.  The  English, 
more  substantial  in  their  perpetuation  of  ancestral  customs,  re- 
spect the  same  usages,  invest  the  day  with  the  usual  forms,  and 
go  on  from  year  to  year,  in  the  time-honored  foot-prints  of  tho 
past.  The  Americans  now  and  then  add  a  supplemental  form 
to  the  accepted  code,  characteristic  of  the  mutable  and  pro- 
gressive spirit  of  the  people ;  though  there  exist  the  Church 
service,  the  conventional  carol,  the  evergreen  decorations,  the 
plum-puddings,  the  pantomimes,  and  a  score  of  other  "  demon- 
strations" that  never  can  legitimately  be  forgotten, 
v  Society  generally  seem  to  apportion  the  day.  Church  in  tho 
morning,  dinner  in  the  afternoon,  and  amusement  in  the  even- 
ing. The  Christinas  dinners  concentrate  the  scattered  mem- 
bers of  families,  who  meet  together  to  break  bread  in  social 
harmony,  and  exchange  those  home  sentiments  that  cement  the 
happiness  of  kindred.  To-day  the  prodigal  once  more  returns 
to  the  paternal  roof;  the  spendthrift  forsakes  his  boon  com- 


HOLIDAY   TIMES.  169 

panions ;  the  convivialist  deserts  the  winecup.  The  beautiful 
genius  of  domestic  love  has  triumphed,  and  who  can  foresee 
the  blessed  results  ? 

Parties,  balls,  and/etes,  with  their  endless  routine  of  gaieties, 
are  looked  forward  to,  as  pleasures  are  the  wide  world  over,  and 
all  classes,  from  highest  to  lowest,  have  their  modes  of  enjoy- 
ment marked  out.  Preparation  follows  preparation  in  festal 
succession ;  sorrow  hides  her  gorgon  head ;  care  may  betake 
itself  to  the  dreariest  recesses — for  Christmas  must  be  a  gala  ! 

There  is  generally  snow  on  the  ground  at  this  time.  If  na- 
ture is  amiable  there  is  sure  to  be,  and  a  Christmas  sleigh-ride 
is  one  of  those  American  delights  that  defy  rivalry.  There  is 
no  withstanding  the  merry  chime  of  the  bells,  and  a  fleet  pass- 
age over  the  snow-skirted  roads.  Town  and  country  look  as 
if  they  had  arose  in  the  morning  in  robes  of  unsullied  white. 
Every  house-top  is  spangled  with  the  bright  element;  soft 
flakes  are  coquetting  in  the  atmosphere  ;  and  a  pure  mantle  has 
been  spread  on  all  sides,  that  fairly  invites  one  to  disport  upon 
its  gleaming  surface. 

We  abide  quietly  within  our  pleasant  home  on  either  the  eve 
or  night  of  Christmas.  How  the  sleighs  glide  by  in  rapid 
glee  !  the  music  of  the  bells  and  the  songs  of  the  excursionists 
falling  on  our  ear  in  very  tunefulness.  We  strive  in  vain  tc 
content  ourself.  We  glance  at  the  cheerful  fire,  and  hearken 
to  the  genial  voices  around  us.  We  philosophize  and  struggle 
against  the  tokens  of  merriment  without ;  but  the  restraint  is 
torture.  We,  too,  must  join  the  revellers,  and  have  a  sleigh- 
ride.  Girls,  get  on  your  furs ;  wrap  yourself  up  warmly  in  the 
old  bear-skin  ;  hunt  up  the  light  guitar  !  The  sleigh  is  at  the 
door,  the  moon  is  beaming,  the  bells  tinkle,  and  away  we  go  ! 

There  is  no  such  jollity  on  earth  as  a  sleigh-ride.  River 
excursions  on  the  bluest  of  streams,  pic-nics  in  the  floweriest  of 
dells,  harvest-homes  among  the  brownest  of  fields,  days  in  the 
field  or  by  the  brook  with  trout,  "pickerel,  and  all  the  angler's 


170  DASHES    OF    AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

heart  could  hope  for,  are  all  very  well ;  but  they  seem  monoto- 
nous and  weary  when  compared  with  a  dashing,  old-fashioned, 
sleighing  bout.  If  human  kind  ever .  made  up  its  universal 
mind  to  be  agreeable,  certainly  it  has  now.  Thousands  of 
sleighs  of  all  patterns,  like  full-breasted  swans,  antelopes,  Poo- 
nah  bears,  and  cows  of  Juggernaut,  filled  with  the  gayest  of 
lads  and  lasses,  are  skimming  through  the  feathery  avenues. 
A  myriad  bells  on  the  fleetest  horses,  ring  changes  that  could 
only  denote  an  excess  of  merriment.  The  very  air  is  palpita- 
ting with  the  music-throb  wildly  Sounding  far  and  near.  The 
stars  twinkling  in  a  sky  unclouded,  shed  a  subdued  light  on  a 
scene  more  vivid  and  joyous  than  our  poor  pen  could  hope  to 
illustrate. 

An  old  Flemish  legend  was  transplanted  many  years  ago  on 
the  shores  of  America,  that  took  root  and  flourished  with  won- 
derful luxuriance,  considering  it  was  not  indigenous  to  the 
country.  Probably  it  was  taken  over  to  New- York  by  one  of 
the  primitive  Knickerbockers,  or  it  might  have  clung  to  some 
of  the  drowsy  burgomasters  who  had  forsaken  the  pictorial  tiles 
of  dear  old  Amsterdam  about  the  time  Peter  de  Laar — or  II 
Bambocrio.  as  the  Italians  called  him — got  into  disgrace  in 
Rome.  However  this  may  be,  certain  it  is  that  Santa  Klaus, 
or  St.  Nicholas,  the  kind  patron-saint  of  the  juveniles,  makes 
his  annual  appearance  on  Christmas-eye,  for  the  purpose  of  dis- 
pensing gifts  to  all  good  children.  This  festive  elf  is  supposed 
to  be  a  queer  little  creature,  that  descends  the  chimney  view- 
lessly  in  the  deep  hours  of  the  night,  laden  with  gifts  and  pre- 
sents, which  he  bestows  with  no  sparing  hand,  reserving  to 
himself  a  supernatural  discrimination,  that  he  seems  to  exercise 
with  every  satisfaction.  Before  going  to  bed,  the  children 
hang  their  newest  stockings  near  the  chimney,  or  pin  them  to 
the  curtains  of  the  bed.  Midnight  finds  a  world  of  hosiery 
waiting  for  favours,  and  the  only  wonder  is  that  a  single  Santa 
Klaus  can  get  around  among  them  all.     The  story  goes  that  he 


HOLIDAY   TIMES.  171 

never  misses  one,  providing  it  belongs  to  a  deserving  youngster, 
and  morning  is  sure  to  bring  no  reproach  that  the  Christinas 
wizard  has  not  nobly  performed  his  wondrous  duties.  "We 
need  scarcely  enlighten  the  reader  as  to  who  the  real  Santa 
Klaus  is.  Every  indulging  parent  contributes  to  the  pleasing 
deception,  though  the  juveniles  are  strong  in  their  faith  of  their 
generous  holiday  patron.  The  following  favourite  lines  gra- 
phically describe  a  visit  of  St.  Nicholas,  and  being  in  great  vogue 
with  the  young  people  of  America,  are  fondly  reproduced  from 
year  to  year  : — 

"  'Twas  the  night  before  Christmas,  when  all  through  the  house 
Not  a  creature  was  stirring,  not  even  a  mouse. 
The  stockings  were  hung  by  the  chimney  with  care, 
In  hopes  that  St.  Nicholas  would  soon  be  there. 
The  children  were  nestled  all  snug  in  their  beds, 
While  visions  of  sugar-plums  danced  through  their  heads. 
And  mamma  in  her  kerchief,  and  I  in  my  cap, 
Had  just  settled  our  brains  for  a  long  winter's  nap 
When  out  on  the  lawn  there  arose  such  a  clatter, 
I  sprang  from  my  bed  to  see  what  was  the  matter. 
Away  to  the  window  I  flew  like  a  flash, 
Tore  open  the  shutters  and  threw  up  the  sash. 
The  moon,  on  the  breast  of  the  new-fallen  snow, 
Gave  the  lustre  of  noon-day  to  objects  below  : 
"When,  what  to  my  wondering  eyes  should  appear, 
But  a  miniature  sleigh  and  eight  tiny  reindeer, 
With  a  little  old  driver,  so  lively  and  quick, 
I  knew  in  a  moment  it  must  be  St.  Nick. 
More  rapid  than  eagles  his  coursers  they  came, 
And  he  whistled,  and  shouted,  and  called  them  by  name — 
'  Now,  Dasher  !  now,  Dancer  !  now,  Prancer  !  now,  Vixen ! 
On,  Comet !  on,  Cupid  !  on,  Donder  and  Blixen  ! 
To  the  top  of  the  porch  !  to  the  top  of  the  wall  ! 
Now,  dash  away,  dash  away,  dash  away,  all  I5 
As  the  leaves  that  before  the  wild  hurricane  fly, 
When  they  meet  with  an  obstacle  mount  to  the  sky, 
So  up  to  the  house-tops  the  coursers  they  flew, 
With  the  sleigh  full  of  toys,  and  St.  Nicholas,  too, 


172  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

And  then  in  a  twinkling,  I  heard  on  the  roof 
The  prancing  and  pawing  of  each  little  hoof  5 
As  I  drew  in  my  head,  and  turning  around, 
Down  the  chimney  St.  Nicholas  came  with  a  bound. 
He  was  dressed  all  in  fur,  from  his  head  to  his  foot, 
And  his  clothes  were  all  tarnished  with  ashes  and  soot. 
A  bundle  of  toys  he  had  flung  on  his  back. 
And  he  looked  like  a  pedlar  just  opening  his  pack. 
His  eyes,  how  they  twinkled  !  his  dimples  how  merry ! 
His  cheeks  were  like  roses — his  nose  like  a  cherry  ; 
His  droll  little  mouth  was  drawn  up  like  a  bow, 
And  the  beard  on  his  chin  was  as  white  as  the  snow  ; 
The  stump  of  a  pipe  he  held  tight  in  his  teeth, 
And  the  smoke  it  encircled  his  head  like  a  wreath. 
He  had  a  broad  face,  and  a  little  round  belly, 
That  shook,  when  he  laughed,  like  a  bowl  full  of  jelly  ; 
He  was  chubby  and  plump — a  right  jolly  old  elf; 
And  I  laughed  when  I  saw  him,  in  spite  of  myself. 
A  wink  of  his  eye,  and  a  twist  of  his  head, 
Soon  gave  me  to  know  I  had  nothing  to  dread. 
He  spoke  not  a  word,  but  went  straight  to  his  work, 
And  filled  all  the  stockings — then  turned  with  a  jerk, 
And  laying  his  fiuger  aside  of  his  nose, 
And  giving  a  nod,  up  the  chimney  he  rose. 
He  sprang  to  his  sleigh,  to  his  team  gave  a  whistle — 
Away  they  all  flew,  like  the  down  off  a  thistle  ; 
But  I  heard  him  exclaim,  as  he  -drove  out  of  sight, 
1  Happy  Christmas  to  all,  and  to  all  a  good-xigu t  !'  " 

A  curious  feature  of  an  American  Christmas  is  the  egg-nog 
and  free  lunch  distributed  at  all  the  hotels  and  cafes.  A  week 
at  least  before  the  25th,  fanciful  signs  are  suspended  over  the 
fountains  of  the  bars  (the  hotel-keepers  are  quite  ideal  in  their 
notions),  announcing  superb  lunch  and  egg-nog  on  Christmas 
day.  This  invitation  is  sure  to  meet  with  a  large  response  from 
the  amateur  epicures  about  town,  who,  ever  on  the  qui  vive  for 
a  banquet  gratis,  flock  to  the  festive  standard, — since  it  has 
never  been  found  a  difficult  matter  to  give  things  away,  from  the 
time  old  Heliogabalus  gastronomed  in  Phoenicia  up  to  the  pres- 


HOLIDAY   TIMES.  173 

ent  time.  A  splendid  hall  in  one  of  the  principal  hotels  at  this 
present  moment  occurs  to  us.  A  table,  the  length  of  the  apart- 
ment, is  spread  and  furnished  with  twenty  made  dishes,  peculiar 
to  the  Christmas  cuisine.  There  are  chowders  and  fricasees, 
ragouts  and  calipee  of  rapturous  delicacy.  Each  dish  is  label- 
led, and  attended  by  a  black  servant,  who  serves  its  contents  on 
very  small,  white,  gilt-edged  plates.  At  the  head  of  the  table 
a  vast  bowl,  ornamented  with  indescribable  Chinese  figures, 
contains  the  "  egg-nog" — a  palatable  compound  of  milk,  eggs, 
brandy  and  spices,  nankeenish  in  colour,  with  froth  enough  on 
its  surface  to  generate  any  number  of  Venuses,  if  the  old  Pelo- 
ponesian  anecdote  is  worth  remembering  at  all.  Over  the  egg- 
nog  mine  host  usually  officiates,  all  smiles  and  benignity, 
dispensing  the  rich  draught  with  miraculous  dexterity  into  cut- 
glass  goblets,  and  passing  it  to  the  surrounding  guests  with 
profusive  hand.  On  this  occasion  the  long  range  of  fancy  drinks 
are  forgotten ;  sherry-cobblers,  mint-juleps,  gin-slings  and 
punches  are  set  aside,  in  order  that  the  sway  of  the  Christmas 
draught  may  be  supreme.  Free  lunches  are  extremely  common 
in  the  United  States ;  what  are  called  11 -o'clock-snacks  especial- 
ly ;  but  the  accompaniment  of  egg-nog  belongs  unequivocally 
to  the  death  of  the  year 

The  presentation  of  "  boxes''  and  souvenirs  is  the  same  in 
America  as  in  England,  the  tokens  of  remembrance  having  all 
inseparable  alliance  with  the  period.  Everybody  expects  to 
give  and  receive.  A  month  before  the  event  the  fancy  stores 
are  crowded  all  day  long  with  old  and  young,  in  search  of  suita- 
ble souvenirs;  and  every  object  is  purchased,  from  costliest 
gems,  to  the  tawdiest  knick-knack  that  may  get  into  the  market. 
If  the  weather  should  be  fine,  the  principal  streets  are  thronged 
with  ladies  shopping  in  sleighs,  aud  hither  and  thither  steeds 
shoot  by,  laden  with  parcels  of  painted  toys,  instruments  of  mock 
music  and  septuagenarian  dread,  from  a  penny  trumpet  to  a 
sheep-skin  drum.     The  store-keepers  are  thriving  off  the  half- 


174  DASHES    OF   AMERICAN   IIUMOR. 

yearly  savings  of  countless  money-boxes,  and  the  owners  of  all 
this  chance-collected  wealth  are  only  too  glad  to  know  there 
exist  such  people  as  toy-men,  to  take  their  money  at  this  festal 
season. 

The  American  tradesman  is  a  rare  one  for  crying  up  the 
superiority  of  his  goods,  though  tradesmen  in  all  civilized  coun- 
tries are  apt  enough  in  this  respect,  for  the  matter  of  that.  At 
the  holiday  times  he  is  thrice  clamorous  in  his  assurances  and 
protestations.  "  Only  look  at  our  stock  of  beautiful  toys," 
says  the  dealer  in  tableW.  He.  u  Our  bonbons  and  vanillas  con- 
sume themselves  with  their  own  sweetness,"  urges  an  anxious 
confectioner.  "  Only  think  how  cheap  every  article  of  jewelry 
is  to  be  bought,  from  a  pendologue  to  a  pencil-case,"  advertises 
a  man  of  gems ;  while  le  Monsieur  Tailleur  affectionately  rec- 
ommends the  million  to  not  waste  a  moment,  but  hasten  and 
purchase  his  "incomparable pale&dts." 

The  windows  of  the  toy-shops  present  a  brilliant  bewilderment 
of  dancing-jacks,  gilded  lutes,  golden  bowls,  wooden  menageries 
and  arabesque  nonsense,  suggesting  the  idea  that  the  artisans 
of  the  earth  must  have  assembled  together  in  fanciful  conven- 
tion, and  devoted  a  week  to  the  comic  concocticn  of  entertaining 
jimcrackery.  The  pastry  cooks,  not  to  be  out-done,  have  fur- 
nished their  saloons  with  a  drapery  of  winter  foliage,  and  perched 
Santa  Klaus  in  the  corner,  where  he  smiles  on  all  who  enter 
to  purchase  gingerbread  maninkins,  picturesquely  sugared  ready 
for  consumption. 

The  market-houses  (there  is  one  in  Philadelphia  two  miles 
long)  are  hung  with  holly  and  crowded  with  vendors  of  that 
species  of  ornate  spice  cake  common  at  English  fairs.  The 
various  stalls  are  designated  by  curtains  of  red,  crimson,  yellow 
or  orange  material,  that,  swaying  in  the  cold  clear  wind,  have  a 
somewhat  oriental  effect.  The  attendants  are  not  unlike  the 
pedlar-poets  of  Cairo — barring  the  sash  and  turban — extempo- 
rizing their  wares  (if  swallowable  substances  can  be  thus  set 
down)  in  the  most  epigrammatic  of  jingle. 


HOLIDAY   TIMES.  175 

The  Pantomime,  though  not  entirely  neglected  in  the  United 
States,  is  by  no  means  a  prominent  Christmas  feature,  from  a 
variety  of  circumstances.  London  could  scarcely  get  along 
without  seeing  the  motley  face  of  Mr.  Clown  at  least  once  a 
year.  Our  Columbines  are  of  the  earth,  earthy ;  neither  prac- 
ticed nor  aerial,  and  lacking  the  buoyant  sprightliness  requisite 
to  create  an  effect.  Although  we  have  had  the  "  dancing  dips," 
and  wondered  how  tallow  was  taught  the  saltatory  art,  and  mar- 
velled at  the  didactic  jest  of  the  clock  face,  yet  we  are  far  behind 
in  the  miraculous  niinutke  of  the  pantomime.  A  sleigh-ride 
will  triumph  over  the  drollest  Griinaldi  that  ever  rouged  his 
countenance,  and  the  snow  unfortunately  makes  its  appearance 
at  the  very  moment  that  Harlequin  is  ready  to  quiver  his  bat. 

Christmas  seems  to  be  a  popular  period  among  the  young  folks 
for  being  mated,  and  a  surprising  number  approach  the  altar 
this  morning.  Whether  it  is  that  orange-flowers  and  bridal 
gifts  are  admirably  adapted  to  the  time,  or  that  a  longer  lease 
of  happiness  is  ensured  from  the  joyous  character  of  the  occa- 
sion, we  are  not  sufficiently  learned  in  hymeneal  lore  to  an- 
nounce. The  Christmas  week,  however,  is  a  merry  one  for  the 
honeymoon,  as  little  is  thought  of  than  mirth  and  gaiety  until 
the  dawning  New- Year  soberly  suggests  that  we  should  put  aside 
our  masquerade  manners. 

In  drawing-room  amusements  society  has  a  wealth  of  pleasing 
in-door  pastimes.  We  remember  the  sententious  question-?-e- 
unions,  the  hilarious  surprise  parties,  fairy-bowl,  and  hunt-the 
slipper.  We  can  never  forget  the  vagabond  Calathumpians, 
who  employ  in  their  bands  everything  inharmonious,  from  a 
fireshovel  to  a  stewpan,  causing  more  din  than  the  demons  down 
under  the  sea  ever  dreamed  of.  These  Calathumpians,  by  the 
way,  are  impudently  musical,  with  no  idea  of  (;  time,  tune  nor 
chromatics,"  essaying  a  Te  Deum  on  a  pair  of  tongs,  and  Sta- 
bat  Mater-ing  with  a  vengeance  on  bone  castanets,  nothing  in 
fear  of  the  shade  of  Rossini,  or  any  other  great  composer. 


176  DASHES    OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

A  great  piece  of  humor  on  Christmas  night  is  the  "  Reading 
of  the  Mottoes" — a  hat  full  of  poetic  nonsense  pencilled  on 
cards,  being  contributed  to  by  every  member  of  the  household 
and  a  circle  of  friends,  who  collect  for  the  evening's  amusement. 
The  reader  is  selected  from  the  company  by  sugar  ballots — blue 
representing  one,  green  another,  and  so  on,  until  one  is  selected 
— most  generally  a  clever  young  lady,  who  is  looked  up  as  the 
clashing  Ninon  of  rompishness  tod  mischief  The  cards  are 
then  collected,  and  the  declaimer  of  the  mottoes  sits  under  the 
Christmas  tree,  and  reads  them  in  order,  merrily  episoding  on 
their  character,  and  guessing  at  the  authors  as  she  proceeds.  If 
she  be  successful,  she  is  presented  with  paper  cones  full  of 
sweetmeats,  supposed  to  be  the  "  food  of  love;"  aud  if,  on  the 
other  hand,  she  fails,  a  pleasant  penalty  is  settled  by  a  committee 
of  the  company,  mostly  girls,  who  are  certain  to  think  of  some 
droll  infliction  that  will  tease  the  heroine  into  a  future  wariness 
should  she  ever  again  be  called  on  to  fiud  the  rhymsters.  The 
mottoes,  usually,  are  nothing  more  than  a  smart  collection  of 
sly  epigrams,  hits  at  the  times,  poetic  personalities,  and  odd 
scraps  thrown  off  ad  libit \u m  to  Buit  the  whim  of  the  moment. 
Much  of  the  fun  therefore  depends  on  the  way  the  whole  game  is 
conducted,  a  number  of  Bprightly  people  being  able  to  eke  out  an 
animated  hour  of  gaiety,  while  a  social  circle  not  particularly 
vivid  would  make  a  very  dreary  affair  of  it  indeed. 

What,  then,  between  the  sleigh-rides,  the  bell-melodies,  Santa 
Klaus  and  his  fictions,  the  egg-nog  and  lunches,  the  weddings 
and  the  willingness  to  be  entertained,  the  Americans  find  no 
difficulty  in  enjoying  Christmas-day.  Old  forms  and  new 
notions  come  in  for  a  share  of  observance,  and  the  young  country 
in  a  glow  of  good  humor  with  one  voice  exclaims,  Le  bon  temps 
viendra  ! 


177 


STEAMBOAT  EXCURSIONS  BY  MOONLIGHT. 


The  "  mighty  Thames,"  the  "  rushing  Darl,"  and  the  "  placid 
Avon,"  are  all  pretty  pet  little  streams,  abounding  in  the  most 
genial  and  picturesque  landscape  scenery  that  can  be  imagined ; 
but  in  the  matter  of  rivers,  as  every  traveller  knows,  America 
possesses  some  of  the  largest  and  most  magnificent  on  the  globe. 
The  Amazon,  of  Brazil;  the  Ohio,  Mississippi,  Hudson,  and 
i Delaware,  of  the  United  States;  and  the  St.  Lawrence,  on  the 
Canadian  borders,  are  delightful  specimens  of  fresh-water  gran- 
Ideur.  To  set  aside  the  value  of  these  streams  in  a  commercial 
point  of  view,  and  the  pre-eminence  they  give  the  country  in 
(natural  advantages,  we  cannot  be  insensible  to  the  varied  and 
^numerous  pleasures  they  afford  the  communities  that  reside  on 
their  banks — and  foremost  in  the  modes  of  gratification  may  be 
ranked  the  steamboat  excursions  when  the  moon  is  gilding  the 
waters,  and  the  delicate  pencil  of  eventide  touching  up  Nature 
with  its  chromo-nocturnal  tints  of  subdued  sableness — (to  coin 
a  word  for  the  occasion). 

An  American  steamboat  differs  vastly  in  capability  and  mode 
of  construction  from  the  French  and  English  contrivances.  We 
can  conceive  nothing  more  cramped,  harsh,  and  unpleasant,  than 

paddle  up  to  Kew  on  an  ill-looking,  dingy,  Thames  boat, 
crowded  to  suffocation,  with  a  blazing  sun  pouring  upon  your 
exposed  head — or  a  spasmodic  run  down  the  Soane,  with  noth- 
ing to  relieve  the  eye  but  a  group  of  villas  here  and  there  in  the 
oeighbourhood  of  Lyons — or  a  narrow  galvanic  voyage  on  the 
Rhine,  with  the  effluvia  from  the  smoke-pipe  perpetually  flying  in 


178  DASHES    OF    AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

your  eyes.  Here  we  find  fault  with  the  medium ;  though  if 
those  rivers  were  broader  and  more  capacious,  certainly  steam- 
boats of  an  ampler  character  would  ere  this  have  made  their 
appearance. 

The  American  steamboats  vary  in  many  respects.  On  the 
eastern  rivers  they  are  luxuries ;  while  those  of  the  gigantic 
Mississippi  and  western  streams  are  ponderous,  unwieldy,  and 
inelegant.  A  Hudson  River  or  Delaware  boat,  without  being 
ungracefully  large,  possesses  just  sufficient  roominess  for  all 
festive  purposes ;  although,  in  justice  to  the  western  craft  we 
would  remark,  they  are  built  more  with  a  view  to  the  reception 
of  merchandize  than  the  accommodation  of  passengers.  A 
vessel  may  be  too  large,  as  well  as  too  small ;  and  to  our  taste 
the  eastern  river  boats  are  just  the  capacity  to  insure  beauty 
and  comfort. 

An  American  steamboat  floats  upon  the  waters  as  gracefully 
as  a  swan.  There  is  au  absence  of  all  that  dreadful  pulling, 
grunting,  and  confusion  about  the  mechanical  region,  so  calcu- 
lated to  upset  a  sybarite.  She  drops  down  the  stream  with  au 
easy  dignity,  (juite  captivating;  and  indulges  in  no  unseemly 
sounds  or  convulsive  jars  to  mar  the  elegance  of  the  impression. 
The  large  pleasure  boats  have  two,  and  in  some  eases  three 
distinct  decks,  each  appointed  with  becoming  suitableness.  The 
upper  or  promenade  deck  (usually  about  two  hundred  and  ten 
feet  in  length)  is  skirted  with  cane  chairs  and  benches ;  leaving 
the  centre  and  sides  for  the  purpose  which  its  name  suggests. 
The  forward  portion  of  the  second  deck  is  apportioned  to  light 
articles  of  merchandize,  and  is  the  only  place  on  the  boat  not 
tabooed  in  respect  to  cigars. 

Aft  on  this  deck  is  the  ladies'  grand  cabin,  connecting  with 
special  cabins,  private  apartments,  and  retiring  rooms.  Gentle- 
men are  never  allowed  to  cross  these  exclusive  thresholds,  except 
in  the  principal  cabin,  which  privilege  is  only  granted  if  he  be 
so  fortunate  as  to  have  the  companionship  of  one  of  the  fair. 


STEAMBOAT    EXCURSIONS    BY    MOONLIGHT.  179 

These  apartments  are  furnished  in  the  most  costly  and  appro- 
priate manner.  There  is  luxury  with  propriety,  and  grandeur 
without  gaudiness.  Few  drawing-rooms  in  the  large  cities 
exhibit  more  taste  than  the  ladies'  cabins.  They  are  not  over- 
crowded, which  is  something  of  the  secret ;  but  the  mirrors, 
fauteuils,  lounges,  sofas,  curtains,  ottomans,  and  pianos  are 
placed  at  becoming  intervals,  with  a  harmony  of  arrangement 
quite  artistic  to  the  eye.  The  severest  decorist  could  take  no 
exception  to  the  want  of  keeping. 

The  gentleman's  cabin  is  substantially  furnished,  with  this 
unimportant  difference,  that  the  carpet  is  not  so  choice  in  pat- 
tern and  quality  as  that  the  ladies  are  permitted  to  press  ;  and 
this,  we  fancy,  arises  from  the  predisposition  of  American  gen- 
tlemen to  indulge  in  reckless  expectoration,  without  u  aim  or 
the  fear  of  consequence,"  as  somebody  has  expressed  it.  "Vfe 
find  here  no  beautiful  Sevres  vases,  filled  with  blooming  flowers, 
occupying  the  graceful  angles  of  the  apartment ;  but  in  lieu  of 
these,  very  noticeable  round  tables,  strewn  with  papers  and 
books,  claim  a  certain  share  of  weary  leisure,  that  supplies  in  a 
harsher  sense  the  absence  of  floral  gifts.  Ladies  and  flowers — 
men  and  newspapers,  are  consistent  associations.  The  chairs 
may  not  seem  as  velvety  as  those  "  t'other  sex  "  are  permitted 
to  occupy ;  but  when  it  is  remembered  that  the  masculines  feel 
no  compunctions  at  elevating  their  toes  on  a  line  with  their 
labials — particularly  in  a  political  dispute  as  to  who  ought  to 
be  President  of  the  United  States — the  difference  is  reasonably 
apparent. 

The  basement  cabins  are  divided  off  in  systematic  style  for 
the  purpose  of  dining,  lounging,  and  drinking.  Each  boat  is 
thoughtfully  provided  with  a  bar  and  barber's-shop,  where  the 
fatigued  traveller  can  have  his  whiskers  curled  in  one  and  the 
cobwebs  removed  from  his  throat  at  the  other,  with  a  spirit  of  ac- 
commodativeness  quite  delightful  under  the  circumstances.  These 
are  conveniences  that  reflect  credit  upon  the  tact  and  manage- 


180  DASHES    OF   AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

ment  of  the  conductors,  whoever  they  may  be,  and  which  render 
"making  one's  way"  on  an  American  steamboat  quite  a  matter 
of  pleasure  as  well  as  progress. 

The  excellence  of  a  steamboat  dinner  is  a  proverb ;  their 
cooks,  cuisi)ie,  and  waiters  are  all  marque  au  Ion  coin.  The 
cooks  are  fatter,  the  waiters  more  deferential  "  ten  times  over," 
the  table-cloth  white,  and  the  comestibles  better  than  can  be 
found  anywhere  else ;  and  those  are  all  great  points.  One's 
gastronomic  longings  arc  never  put  to  the  blush  by  a  tortured 
relcve  in  the  matter  of  a  bilious-looking  jambon,  and  the  chick- 
ens have  not  that  done-a-long-time-ish-ncs-  of  appearance  that 
frightens  appetite  in  the  maimer  that  eccentric  .scarecrows  will 
put  to  flight  the  hardiest  of  birds.  Completeness  reigns  through- 
out. The  napkins  are  folded  until  they  resemble  cambric  car- 
toons ;  the  salt-cellars  and  their  excellent  friends,  the  pepper- 
boxes, arc  never  out  of  your  reach  ;  and  if  a  porringer  that  you 
desire,  meet  not  your  finger-tips,  the  merest  effort  in  the  world 
will  secure  it.  When  fasting,  invalids  desire  a  change  and  a 
"  good  dinner,"  the  salle  d  manger  of  the  steamboat  is  their 
resort,  and  a  serviceable  one  we  have  found  it. 

It  is  the  moonlight  excursions  that  exhibit  the  American 
steamboat  in  all  its  glor}'.  The  neatly-painted  decks  have  been 
washed,  the  promenades  arranged,  the  cabins  set  to  rights,  and, 
in  short,  every  article  aboard  seems  determined  to  put  on  its 
best  looks  for  the  occasion.  The  excursion  is,  say,  twenty  miles 
< — to  a  pleasant  country  town:  the  month,  August,  and  the  moon 
is  supposed  to  smile  very  brightly  and  delightfully  on  every 
object  terrestrial.  A  brass  and  string  band  of  considerable 
force  is  engaged,  coloured  lights  are  suspended  here  and  there 
— an  ignipotent  echo  of  a  Vauxhall  effort ;  the  waiters  (mostly 
negroes)  have  made  themselves  very  smart,  and  the  extra  bar- 
keepers of  the  "  lower  cabin"  are  up  to  their  whiskers  in  bunches 
of  mint,  lemons,  pine-apples,  peaches,  and  "  the  wherewith"  to 
construct  pleasant  and  patent  drinks. 


STEAMBOAT   EXCURSIONS   BY   MOONLIGHT.  181 

The  boat  in  question  is  called  the  "  Star  of  the  Waters" — 
the  Americans  revelling  in  pretty  titles  for  their  conveyances — 
and  she  has  advertised  to  leave  the  pier  at  half-past  eight  pre- 
cisely, in  order  to  return,  if  possible,  by  midnight — a  judicious 
arrangement  to  please  the  anxious  mamas  of  various  young 
ladies  who  may  wish  to  "  trip  it  on  the  light  fantastic"  by  the 
light  of  the  moon.  The  price  of  the  trip  is  one  dollar  for  a 
gentleman  and  two  ladies — another  thoughtful  proviso,  that 
the  feminines  may  be  abundant ;  and  by  the  time  the  even- 
ing star  twinkles  through  its  blue  shroud,  the  voyageurs 
assemble. 

The  scene  grows  vivid.  How  the  ladies  smile  and  laugh  as 
they  flit  over  the  promenades  1  Here  is  a  coquette,  with  spark- 
ling  eye,  getting  up  a  flirtation  with  a  handsome  friend  of  her 
beau's,  just  to  tease  the  poor  fellow.  There  is  a  group  of  girls 
in  undulating  muslin,  with  pink  sashes  and  brown  ringlets,  all 
in  the  gayest  of  humours.  The  captain  of  the  boat  is  talking 
with  a  charming  young  lady,  splendidly  attired,  who  has  just 
arrived  ;  and  who,  we  feel  confident,  will  establish  herself  as  the 
belle  of  the  night  -before  the  "  witching  hour"  arrives.  What 
an  array  of  demi-toilettes  ! — skirts  of  every  hue,  and  bodices 
fashioned  with  exquisite  skill ;  head-dresses,  from  a  single  white 
flower  in  the  hair,  to  the  sparkling  tiara  that  crowns  the  darkest 
locks. 

The  "tickets  are  all  in"  (to  use  a  conventional  phrase  of 
the  water),  and  with  majestic  quietude  the  "  Star"  hauls  off  into 
the  stream,  and  sets  her  bow  towards  her  rustic  destination. 
Viewing  her  from  the  pier,  how  magnificent  the  spectacle  !  The 
lights  beam  in  roseate  grotesqueness — a  myriad  of  forms  in  the 
wildest  glee  are  stirring  about  the  decks — the  sounds  of  the 
music  steal  over  the  waters — the  waves  ripple  joyously  by — the 
Queen  of  the  Night  rides  lovingly  in  the  heavens — and  all  tells 
of  festivity  and  happiness. 

We  watch  the  boat  until  it  is  out  of  sight.     The  lights  fade 


182  DASHES   OF    AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

gradually  away ;  the  strains  of  the  music  die  gently  upon  the 
air — no  more  we  recognize  the  soft  plash  of  the  waves.  The 
excursionists  have  gone,  and  are  now  mingling  in  the  mazes  of 
the  quadrille,  and  "  making  love"  in  the  lustre  of  the  moonbeams. 
Happy  creatures ! 


183 


JONATHAN  AT  THE  OPERA, 


A  Yankee  in  Paris — we  mean  an  unadulterated,  verdant, 
knotty  specimen — is  something  of  a  curiosity.  In  the  whirl- 
pool of  plaited  trowsers  and  sable  mustaches  he  looks  like  somo 
remarkable  nondescript  that  has  got  astray — the  contrast  is  so 
great  between  your  be-whiskered  yellow  Frenchman  and  the 
long,  gawky,  Saxon-countenanced  American.  Throw  a  curiously 
carved  chip  on  the  bosom  of  the  sea,  and  let  it  float  far  from 
the  shores  of  civilization — perhaps  it  will  be  picked  up  with  a 
flood  of  wonderment.  Set  down  on  the  dashing  Boulevards  a 
raw,  primitive,  bony  Vermonter,  with  no  idea  of  society  and  the 
conventionalities  of  countries,  and  he  will  be  as  great  an  oddity 
as  one  could  well  conceive. 

"When  we  were  in  Paris,  last  year,  we  encountered  one  of  the 
latter  class.  He  was  disgracefully  verdant,  and  had  crossed  the 
ocean  to  introduce  a  "  scythe-sharpener,"  for  which  he  had  taken 
out  a  patent;  but,  according  to  his  own  account,  everybody 
spoke  so  much  French  he  could'nt  make  them  understand  what 
he  wanted  to  do.  Of  course,  he  had  been  sight-seeing,  and  had 
examined  everything,  from  the  antiques  of  the  Louvre  to  the 
whirligig  flourishes  on  the  Obelisk  of  Luxor,  much  to  his  grat- 
ification. After  dinner  one  day,  over  the  remains  of  a  flacon 
of  Bordeaux  he  gave  us  a  running  account  of  his  visit  to  the 
opera,  which  we  will  endeavour  to  transcribe,  as  nearly  as  pos- 
posible,  in  his  own  words  : — 

"  The  fact  is,"  said  he  producing  a  pocket-knife,  and  a  slip  of 
wood,  as  thick  as  an  adult's  fore-finger,  which  he  whittled  with  a 


184  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

dainty  dexterity,  "  I  come  to  France  with  an  eye  to  biz'ness ; 
and  if  I  could  pick  up  some  crums  of  information,  all  well  and 
good.  But  I've  got  a  scythe-sharpener  that  beats  everything 
that  was  ever  invented  clean  out  of  the  field — yes,  far  out  of 
sight  and  gone  !  That's  no  braggin',  on  my  honour.  These 
Frenchmen  may  be  as  ingenious  as  you  please,  but  they  can  no 
more  compare  with  the  Yankees  in  agricultural  things  than  you 
could  expect  to  build  an  arsenal  of  duck-eggs.  I  can  make  a 
scythe  so  desperate  sharp  that  its  shadow  would  be  dangerous 
if  you  should  run  agin  it  in  the  dark ;  and  as  for  the  old  system 
of  whetting-stones,  the  farmers  in  Vermont  swear  by  me  jist  as 
the  Turks  did  by  Mahommed. 

"  But  changin'  the  subject,  this  Paris  is  {  one  of  the  places,' 
now  is'nt  it  ?  Them  Boo-le-vards  are  high  old  streets — beat 
Broadway  and  the  Bowery  all  over  !  And  that  palace — what 
do  you  call  it  ? — the  Tweeleries — that  goes  a-head  of  everything 
I  ever  saw,  except  Buckin'ham  Palace,  where  the  Queen  boards 
in  London.  I  went  to  the  opera  'tother  night  to  hear  Albony 
— did  you  ever  hear  Albony  sing.  She's  a  jolly,  fat,  comfortable- 
lookin'  critter ;  but  she's  got  a  voice  as  sweet  as  sugar,  now,  I 
tell  you.  Well,  before  I  went  to  the  opera,  somebody  told  me  - 
I  must  put  on  white  kids  and  carry  a  boquet.  I  up  and  said  I 
would't,  and  then  they  allowed  if  I  did'nt  I  could 'nt  git  in ;  so  as 
I  wanted  to  hear  Albony,  I  thought  I'd  violate  my  conscience, 
and  do  it.  I  went  to  one  of  them  glove-shops  in  the  Roo  Pus- 
sinair,  and  a  mighty  slick-lookin'  gal — with  her  hair  twisted  like 
mint-sticks  around  her  head — fitted  me  with  a  pair,  though  I 
had  a  dreadful  time  to  make  her  understand  what  I  wanted.  I 
pinted  first  to  my  hands,  and  she  laughed  and  showed  a  double 
row  of  ivories,  and  got  down  a  gilt  bottle  with  a  label  on  it, 
'  Amandine,'  or  somethin'  like  that ;  but  as  I  did'nt  want  no 
gilt  bottles,  I  shook  my  head,  and  made  motions  as  if  I  was 
pullin'  on  a  glove,  and  at  last  she  took  the  hint. 

"  I  'spose  I  must  have  split  six  pairs  before  I  got  one  to  fit ; 


JONATHAN    AT   THE    OTL  [Q$ 

and  it  would'nt  have  gone  on  at  all,  if  the  gal  had'nl  coaxed  and 
rubbed  it  on  with  her  little  white  fingers.  Talk  about  hands 
— hers  was  lilies  alongside  of  my  great  mallets !  Well,  arter  I 
got  the  gloves,  I  had  a  deuce  of  a  time  before  I  could  pay  for 
them.  She  could'nt  make  me  understand  how  much  they  were, 
nor  I  could'nt  make  her  explain  clear  enough ;  so  I  had  to  end 
the  matter  by  takin'  out  a  handful  of  money,  and  lettin'  her 
help  herself.  Talk  about  uncomfortable  people !  I  think  I  was 
the  greatest  wretch  in  them  gloves  !  It  was  the  first  pair  I 
ever  had  on  in  my  life,  and  I  walked  about  as  if  I  had  committed 
some  dreadful  sin. 

"  The  next  thing  was  to  get  a  bocjuet ;  but  as  I  could'nt  see 
one  handy.  I  bought  a  bunch  of  water-cresses,  and,  mixin'  a 
dozen  big  stumpy  scarlet  radishes  amongst  'em,  I  got  my  ticket 
and  walked  in.  Everybody  stared  at  me,  and  feelin'  saasy,  I 
stared  back  just  as  hard  as  they  did.  Lookhr  up  into  the  gal- 
lery, I  saw  a  passel  of  young  chaps,  all  whiskers  and  jewelry, 
pintin'  at  my  boquet,  and  laughin'  as  if  they'd  tear  their  mus- 
taches. I  looked  up  two  or  three  times,  and  made  mouths  at 
'em ;  but  instead  of  their  stopping  it  only  made  'em  wus.  And 
at  last  I  got  mad,  and  jerkin  off  my  kids  with  one  pull  that 
ripped  'em  as  systematic  as  anything  you  ever  saw,  I  picked  out 
the  radishes  from  my  boquet,  and  commenced  firm'  'em  at  the 
bilious-lookin'  wretches,  Lord  !  how  they  scattered  !  I  knocked 
one  feller's  hat  off,  and  it  tumbled  into  the  pit  Another  drop- 
ped his  lorgn — (the  things  they  look  through  to  fetch  the  gals 
nearer),  and  three  or  four,  in  the  hurry  to  git  out  of  the  way, 
tripped  over  the  back-benches,  and  came  sprawling  on  tew  the 
floor. 

"  Three  or  four  men  rushed  over  to  me,  and  spluttered  away 
somethin'  in  French ;  but  they  might  as  well  have  held  their 
tongues,  for  I  could'nt  make  out  a  word  they  said,  A  gentle- 
man sittin'  in  the  next  box.  who  understood  the  American 
language,  translated  what  they  said  to  me — '  They  say  you've 
broken  the  peace,  and  you  must  go  out' 


186  DASHES   OF    AMERICAN    HUMOE. 


a  < 


Tell  'em  I  won't  do  no  sich  thing.  Those  fellers  laughed 
at  me,  and  I  didn't  pay  my  money  to  come  in  here  to  be  snig- 
gered at.' 

11  He  told  'em;  but  they  told  him  back  that  I  must  leave,  as 
the  audience  were  very  much  excited.  Just  then  Albony  made 
her  appearance,  and  waddled  to  music  down  to  the  row  of  gn*. 
and  pitched  her  voice  in  a  key  that  ought  to  have  restored 
quiet ;  but  instead  of  doing  so,  everybody  was  taken  up  with 
me,  and  bawled  and  squalled  like  a  trunk  full  of  tom-cats. 

"  -  Ho-o-o-o  !'  shouted  the  gallery. 

t; ■  Hi-i-i-i !'  screeched  the  pit. 

"  '  Vo-o-o-o  !'  murmured  the  boxes*. 

'■  I  saw  then  there  was  no  use  tryin'  to  stop  where  I  was , 
and,  gitting  up  to  go,  I  found  I  had  jist  one  radish  left  in  my 
boquct.  I  threw  my  eyes  up  to  the  gallery,  and  saw  a  long- 
nosed  cuss  with  a  ruffled  shirt,  pintin'  to  me,  and  swearin'  like  I 
a  trooper.  I  marked  him  well,  and,  drawin'  off.  I  let  go  the 
bble,  and  it  took  him  alongside  the  head  in  a  manner  that 
made  him  have  a  singin'  of  the  '  Marsallais1  in  his  ears,  pro 
vided  there  was  anything  like  tune  in  his  body.  This  ki' 
up  a  fresh  excitement,  fur  the  fellow  roared  like  a  bull,  he  was 
so  mad,  and  I  thought  he  would  have  slid  down  one  of  the 
pillars  to  get  at  me. 

"  Before  I  could  leave  the  boxes,  three  men  pulled  me  by  the 
coat  mighty  rough,  and  when  I  got  into  the  lobby,  I  said 
■  Good-night !'  But  I  found  they  had  no  idea  of  partin'  with 
me  so  soon ;  and  the  upshot  of  the  whole  thing  was,  that  I  had 
an  escort  to  the  police-office,  where  I  was  seated  in  company 
with  a  parcel  of  Johnny  Darmes.  Thinks  I  to  myself,  I  might 
as  well  take  this  thing  easy,  and,  so  sendin'  for  a  franc's-worth 
of  cigars,  I  treated  the  cocked  hats  all  around,  and  we  had  a 
jolty  time  till  morning. 

"About  twelve  o'clock,  I  was  taken  before  a  squire — I 
reckon  he  was,  only  they  don't  call  'cm  squires  here — and  an 


JONATHAN  AT  THE  OPERA.  187 

interpreter  asked  me  a  hull  procession  of  questions  about  who 
I  was,  where  did  I  come  from,  and  where  I  was  goin'.  I  patted 
my  own  head,  and  said,  after  every  one,  '  Bon  Amerique !'  for 
that  was  about  all  of  their  confounded  gibberish  I  knew.  A 
passel  of  chaps  in  gowns  and  black  inquisition-looking  caps  then 
put  their  noses  together;  and,  in  the  end,  they  told  the  inter- 
preter  to  tell  me  that  it  would  cost  twenty  francs  to  once  more 
get  fresh  air.  I  asked  them  to  knock  a  little  off,  if  they  could 
manage  it ;  but  the  judge,  a  dog-eyed  man,  squinted,  mumbled 
Bomethin'  to  the  lawyers,  and  I  had  to  count  out  the  money. 
Talk  about  French  politeness !  They  didn't  as  much  as  say, 
1  Thank  you'  for  it,  and  I  marched  off  with  the  determination 
that  the  next  time  I  went  to  the  opera  to  take  no  substitute  for 
flowers,  but  get  the  real  thing,  if  I  had  to  go  out  of  town  and 
pluck  'em. 

"  "Watercress   boquets    and    radish-blossoms    won't    do    in 

Paris !" 


188  DASHES    OF    AMERICAN    HUMOIl, 


JEDEDIAH  DOUGHKIXS. 


Jedediah  Doughkins  was  a  Yankee  farmer,  living  a  few  miles 
from  Bangor,  in  the  State  of  Maine.  Like  most  Yankee  farm- 
ers, he  was  possessed  of  a  good  share  of  the  national  charae. 
teristic  shrewdness  found  in  that  class  of  Ncw-Englandcrs  on 
the  other  side  of  the  river  Merrimack,  u  looking  east ;"  though 
in  the  ways  of  the  world  and  the  finesse  of  the  times  he  was 
profoundly  verdant,  as  much  so  as  his  own  clover  tops  before 
budding.  Jedediah  was  a  tall,  knotty  "  specimen,"  with  round 
goggle  eyes,  long  carrotty  hair,  a  good-natured  mouth,  only 
two  of  the  front  teeth  were  not  at  home,  with  a  big  seed-wart 
on  his  nasal  protuberance,  which  latter,  by  the  way.  was  far 
from  a  pug,  drooping,  as  it  were,  like  a  fatigued  willow  over  a 
duck-pond.  His  usual  dress — "  the  one  he  went  about  house 
in" — consisted  of  a  pair  of  old  ox-hide  boots,  the  scams  of  which 
were  always  interlarded  with  hog's-grease,  which  was  done,  as 
Jed  said,  il  to  keep  out  the  contarnal  water;"  a  pair  of  trowsers, 
made  in  the  highest  style  of  crude,  home-spun  art,  of  the  very 
finest  quality  of  bed-ticking,  which  was  perpetually  to  be  seen 
labelled  at  all  the  country  shops,  "Six  cents  per  yard,  by  the 
piece;"  coat,  linsey  woolsey,  painfully  shaggy,  with  an  incon- 
sistently long  tail,  draggling  about  if  he  happened  to  stoop, 
and  which  tapered  down  like  the  letter  V  ;  shirt,  of  course  tex* 
ture,  unstarched  and  unironed,  with  a  collar  of  broad  dimen- 
sions, that  two  inches  longer  would  have  resembled  a  wilted 
monk's  cowl,  and  never  by  any  chance  "  stood  straight  up,"  but 
hung  over  every  which  way,  full  of  undefined  crinks  and  crh> 


JEDEDIAH    DOUGIIKINS.  189 

kles  ;  vest,  of  an  antique  pattern,  the  colour  of  faded  dirt,  with  a 
figure  that  was  artistically  intended  to  represent  a  smart  sports- 
man, but  which  in  reality  looked  more  like  an  intoxicated  Jack 
of  Diamonds  with  a  crooked  shillelah ;  his  hat — not  to  make  a 
beastly  old  pun,  so  we  thus  episodically  warn  the  reader  not  to 
accuse  us — was  the  crowning  "  brick"  of  this  tenement  of  od- 
ditude  (a  coinage  ;  how  do  you  like  it  ?) — it  looked  as  if  it  had 
passed  through  "  fiery  trials,"  or  had  belonged  to  some  of  Noah's 
very  intimate  friends.  Of  course  it  was  a  beaver,  an  out-and- 
out  frowsy,  foozey  old  beaver,  shaped  not  like  a  bell,  nor  a 
u  Scaramouch,"  nor  what  is  called  in  England  a  "  wide  awake," 
nor  yet  a  stove  pipe,  nor  pear  pattern,  but  something  like  the 
whole  of  these,  with  perhaps  an  ascendancy  of  the  pear — that 
is,  a  certain  burliness  just  below  the  crown  that  imparted  to  it 
a  droll  yet  comfortable  aspect.  By  some  unaccountable  chance 
this  hat  was  always,  or  in  all  proper  bounds  nearly  so,  on  his 
head  ;  and  his  long  grizzled  yellow  ha<r,  "  tangled  but  not  silky," 
hung  over  his  freckled  cheeks  like  two  terrified  tassels  on  a  win- 
dow sill.  Thus  attired,  Jedediah  wandered  about  his  few  acres 
of  ground,  the  admired  owner  of  a  number  of  pigs,  cows,  chick- 
ens, turkeys,  and  dogs,  all  of  whom  seemed  instantly  to  know 
their  master,  and  respected  him  accordingly. 

Jedediah  had  a  wife — a  round,  oily  little  woman — who,  from 
having  lived  in  the  early  part  of  her  life  in  a  good-sized  village, 
had  contracted  a  certain  fondness  for  dress,  and  therefore  was 
less  bizarre  in  her  costume  than  her  spouse.  A  red  shawl,  for 
example,  was  her  "  anguish,"  and  when  flounces  first  came  up, 
she  got  them  so  high  as  to  look  like  a  chubby  or  old-fashioned 
cask,  hooped  around  clear  up  to  the  head.  She  had  a  great 
weakness  for  fans,  too,  ornamented  with  "  picters  of  things." 
So  far  did  she  carry  this  fantastic  notion,  that  she  had  one  for 
every  day  in  the  week,  and  a  splendid  large  pet  one  for  the  Sab- 
bath. There  was  her  Monday  fan,  with  a  scene  on  the  River 
Hudson,  done  in  water  colours.     Her  Tuesday  one  had  a  little 


190  DASHES   OF    AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

oil  painting  of  a  scene  in  Greece,  and  a  gilt  handle.  Then  came 
the  "Wednesday,  with  Bonaparte  crossing  the  Alps,  with  one  of 
the  ears  and  half  of  the  tail  of  the  hero's  horse  obliterated. 
This  was  a  present  from  Jedediah  when  they  were  courting.  He 
used  to  look  at  the  fan  when  he  couldn't  think  of  anything 
better  to  say,  and  remark,  "  "What  a  great  man  Bony  must  have 
been,  to  git  his  horse  over  them  mountings  !"  The  Thursday 
one  was  emblazoned  with  the  head  of  Washington ;  and  Glo- 
ryann  Billings,  one  of  her  nieces,  used  to  say,  "  that  she  loved 
that  fan  bekayse  the  good  old  feythcr  of  his  country  was  on  it ;" 
and  Jedediah  often  said,  that  the  "  General  was  one  of  the  boys 
for  trowsers ;"  and  then  wonder  if  he'd  ever  have  a  son  that 
would  make  so  much  "  stir  in  this  world/'  The  Friday  fan  was 
intended  as  a  representation  of  a  Chinese  family ;  but  the  col- 
ours had  run  so,  that  it  would  have  taken  a  skilful  ethenologist 
to  make  out  the  race.  The  Saturday  one  was  slightly  zoologi- 
cal in  intention,  delineating  an  elephant  attacked  by  tigers,  but 
which  in  reality  suggested  the  appearance  of  an  irregularly- 
erected  two-storied  house,  with  a  couple  of  absurd-looking  torn 
cats,  ready  to  make  a  jump  if  required.  The  Sunday  one  was 
trimmed  round  with  feathers,  and  never  by  any  chance  made 
its  appearance,  except  on  the  "  good  day,"  after  which  it  was 
carefully  embedded  in  the  best  drawer,  among  a  handful  of  dried 
rose  leave?. 

Jedediah  (if  it  is  not  meddlesome  to  reveal  family  secrets) 
did  not  altogether  approve  of  his  wife's  leaning  towards  finery, 
and  frequently  gave  her  a  piece  of  his  honest  mind  on  the  sub- 
ject of  everything  in  the  way  of  furbelows.  She  said  he  was 
foolish  and  old-fashioned,  and  he  said  she  was  sour-tempered  and 
stuck  up.  He  thought  she  was  wrong,  and  she  kneio  she  was 
right.  She  argued  that  a  moderate  regard  to  fashion  was  essen- 
tial in  a  woman,  and  as  far  as  that  went  she  was  determined  "  to 
be  in  the  season  until  she  was  four-and-forty."  He  would  then 
doff  that  old  fur  hat  for  a  moment,  rub  his  sleeve  over  it,  in 


JEDEDIAH    DOUGHKINS.  191 

order  to  settle  the  nap ;  look  at  her  for  a  moment  with  his 
great  round  eyes ;  resume  the  hat  again ;  twist  his  hair  with 
his  thumb,  and  then  walk  off.  This  was  his  only  demonstration 
up  to  the  present  time ;  hut  circumstances  knocked  so  loudly 
one  day  at  the  door  of  his  temper,  that  he  "  let  out  a  little,"  as 
will  be  seen. 

Shortly  after  the  Bloomer  mania  broke  out,  Dame  Doughkins, 
unknown  to  her  husband,  gradually  became  tinctured  with 
the  idea  of  the  short  skirts  and  Turkish  don't-speak-of-'ems. 
She  had  read  in  the  village  paper  a  graphic  detail  of  the 
mode  of  making  the  dress,  with  so  glowing  a  description  of 
its  appearance  and  advantages,  that  she  secretly  and  Stoutly 
resolved  on  having  an  outfit,  if  it  were  just  to  say  that  she  had 
"  followed  the  fashuns."  In  this  determination  she  received  the 
approval  of  a  neighbour,  one  Mrs.  Rhuty  Tute,  a  friend  from 
town,  who  used  to  pay  her  a  monthly  visit,  and  bring  down 
more  gossip  and  scandal  than  would  fill  a  volume  the  size  of 
"  Cooke's  Complete  Voyages,"  even  were  it  printed  in  agate, 
which,  as  all  booksellers  know,  takes  in  a  vast  deal  of  matter  to 
the  page.  Mrs.  Rhuty  Tute  was  a  sort  of  Mrs.  Malaprop,  a 
cross  between  that  loquacious  old  lady,  and  the  present  Mrs. 
Partington,  with  her  brain  full  of  whimsical  conceits  of  dress 
and  fashion,  and  a  tongue  that  ran  with  painful  intermission. 

Several  letters  passed  on  the  subject  of  this  bloomer  costume, 
and  before  long  Mrs.  Rhuty  Tute,  overflowing  with  intelligence, 
posted  down  to  the  farm,  where  she  found  her  friend  up  in  arms 
and  eager  to  meet  her.  Oh,  such  a  chatter  as  they  had  !  She 
had,  of  course,  brought  with  her  patterns  and  plans,  matter  and 
material,  for  the  new  costume,  of  which  poor  Jedediah  was  all 
in  the  dark. 

"  Now,  I  do  say  that  this  stuff  will  look  superb,"  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Rhuty  Tute,  displaying  two-and-a-half  yards  of  peach- 
coloured  silk,  and  feasting  her  gaze  on  the  figures  of  it.  a  Mr. 
Smith,  the  shopman,  says  that  it  is  so  scarce  because  it's  a  little 
out  of  seasoD." 


192  DASHES  OF  AMERICAN  HUMOR. 

"  Well,  I  guess  he's  about  right,"  said  Mrs.  Doughkins;  "  I 
haint  seen  naar-ee  peach  tint  for  a  long  time  in  these  parts. 
That's  to  make  the  petty-loons,  I  reckon." 

"  No,  dear,  that's  for  what  they  calls  the  *  visite' — they  calls 
'em  on  the  stage  a  tunic,  but  Mrs.  Bloomer  says  it's  wulgar  to 
use  stage  words  in  society,  and  so  we  calls  'em  vreites.  It  is 
wery  like  the  common  mantilla  what  everybody  wears." 

It  was  arranged  that  a  Bloomer  dress  should  be  at  once  pre- 
pared ;  and  the  ladies  proceeded  to  work.  31  rs.  llhuty  Tute 
directed  the  patterns,  and  Mrs.  Jedediah  plied  her  needle  accord- 
ing to  instructions. 

"  Dear  me,  how  Jed  will  look  when  he  sees  me  dressed  all  up 
in  this  !     He  won't  know  me,  will  he  ?"  asked  the  dame. 

u  Won't  he,  indeed  ?  To  be  sure  he  will,  only  he'll  say  you 
look  ten  years  younger,"  replied  Mrs.  llhuty  Tute. 

"  We'll  never  say  a  blessed  word  to  him  until  we  get  ail 
ready." 

"  Not  a  syllable.  We'll  take  him  quite  by  surprise,"  continued 
Mrs.  llhuty  Tute.  winking  her  gray  tabby  eyes,  and  puckering 
up  her  mouth  with  an  amiable  leer. 

And  ardently  these  worthy  ladies  bent  over  the  materials  of 
their  new  enterprise.  When  Jedediah  happened  to  stalk  into 
the  apartment,  they  slipped  the  Bloomer  trimmings  aside,  and 
supplied  their  place  by  a  roll  of  sober-looking  patchwork.  He, 
good  easy  soul,  never  dreamed  of  what  was  going  on,  although 
an  occasional  glance  at  Mrs.  llhuty  Tute  seemed  to  indicate  a 
tacit  objection  to  her  presence.  A  bevy  of  lively  little  French 
milliners  never  chatted  so  familiarly  over  gilt  finery  as  the  two 
Bloomer  converts.  Mrs.  llhuty  Tute  once  or  twice  absolutely 
grew  playful,  and  went  so  far  as  to  say  that  she  would't  have 
cared  a  pin  if  she  had  been  born  a  man — the  trowsers  were  so 
easy.  One  little  box  contained  studs  and  ribbons  and  tassels, 
and  another  contained  pretty  pearl  buttons  and  wristlets  of 
various  patterns,  all  of  which  Mrs.  llhuty  Tute  had  brought 


JEDEDIAH    DOUGHKINS.  193 

"with  her,  by  way  of  creating  a  modicum  of  astonishment  in  the 
bosom  of  her  friend. 

After  the  dresses  were  completed,  it  was  decided  tnat  they 
should  be  worn  immediately  after  dinner.  Jedediah  would  be 
gone,  to  the  barn,  and  by  the  time  he  got  back  all  would  be 
ready.  The  arrangement  then  was,  that  Mrs.  Doughkins  should 
be  attired  first,  as  the  description  she  had  read  in  the  village 
paper  did  not  clearly  enlighten  her  as  to  the  manner  of  getting 
into  each  respective  habiliment,  and  her  friend's  assistance  was, 
under  the  circumstances,  almost  indispensable.  The  secrets  of 
a  lady's  dressing-room  are  held,  and  properly  too,  sacredly 
inviolable,  so  we  will  content  ourselves  with  merely  imagining 
that  they  must  have  had  a  funny  time  in  assuming  the  new 
garb.  Mrs.  Doughkins,  at  the  best  of  periods,  even  when  about 
that  which  she  thoroughly  understood,  was  never  remarkable  for 
grace  or  aptness  ;  so  we  have  a  right  to  suppose  that  she — fat, 
chubby  little  creature  as  she  was — suffered  some  mental  agita- 
tion, though  momentary  it  might  have  been. 

Peleg,  a  servant-man,  had  been  two  days  borrowing  small 
looking-glasses,  on  the  sly,  from  the  neighbours  around,  for 
which  subornation  Mrs.  Khuty  Tute  had  graciously  rewarded 
him  with  two  cents,  and  a  Christian  injunction  not  to  spend  the 
money  foolishly.  Peleg,  by  the  way — we  may  as  well  mention 
it — heeded  her  advice  to  the  extent  of  being  found  that  same 
night  in  a  state  of  dreamy  intoxication,  having  taken  up  lodg- 
ings with  his  head  on  an  elderly  sow,  who,  grunting  dismally, 
made  a  sort  of  refrain  to  Peleg's  "  snore,"  which  was  not  of  the 
most  harmonious  character. 

Much  fuss  and  fidgetting  over,  the  ladies  were  at  last  ready. 
Mrs.  Rhuty  Tute  laughed  at  Mrs.  Doughkins,  and  vice  vcrsd. 
Mrs.  Khuty  Tute  said,  with  a  pain  in  her  side,  that  Mrs. 
Doughkins  looked  like  a  "saucy  dumplin;"  and  Mrs.  Doughkins 
could  not  do  better  than  tell  Mrs.  Rhuty  Tute  that  she  looked 
like  a  "  saucy  dumplin  "  too.     Mrs.  Doughkins  could  not  walk, 


194  DASHES    OF    AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

"but  waddled  somewhat  after  the  fashion  of  an  ancient  duck, 
when  emerging  from  a  favourite  pond ;  and  Mrs.  Rhuty  Tute, 
be  it  said  to  our  horror,  actually  kicked  up  her  heels,  and  threw 
a  ball  of  yarn  on  the  floor  for  puss  to  play  with.  Down  stairs 
they  went,  tittering  and  shaking  their  heads,  into  the  large, 
dining-room,  from  which  'they  could  command  a  view  of  the 
barn ;  and  they  had  scarcely  pounced  into  a  couple  of  high- 
backed,  crooked-bottomed,  easy  chairs,  before  in  walked  Jede- 
diah,  with  a  hoe  upon  his  shoulder,  whistling  a  bar  and  a-half 
of  "  Yankee  Doodle,"  just  at  that  particular  portion  of  the  air 
where  the  words  infer  that  he  (Yankee  Doodle)  "  came  to  town 
on  a  spotted  pony." 

Jedediah  started.  Were  it  a  pair  of  fat  fairies  he  was  gazing 
at  ?  They  did  not  move,  and  he  brandished  his  hoe  with  an 
attitude  of  defiance.  All  at  once  Mrs.  Rhuty  Tute  jumped 
from  her  seat,  which  so  alarmed  Mrs.  Doughkins  that  she 
trembled  from  head  to  foot. 

"  Jerusalem  Grinkums!  is  that  yeou?"  shrieked  Jedediah 
in  one  breath,  his  eyes  starting  almost  out  of  their  sockets, 
while  his  beaver  toppled  over  off  of  his  head,  "  What  in  the 
name  of  all  that's  superhuman  now  and  for  ever,  till  kingdom 
come,  and  all  the  time  henceforth  and  hereafter,  have  yeou  been 
and  done?" 

"  We — we — we're  B — Bl — Bloom — Bloomers  !  "  stuttered 
Mrs.  Doughkins,  almost  frightened  out  of  her  wits,  and  holding 
on  to  the  chair  with  both  of  her  hands  by  way  of  support. 

Mrs.  Rhuty  Tute  smiled. 

"  You're  what !"  again  shrieked  Jedediah,  running  his  fingers 
through  his  carrotty  hair,  and  giving  his  "  bed  ticks  "  a  long 
hitch — "  What,  what  the  Jehu  is  Blu-mers  ?  Look  a-here, 
Mrs.  Rhuty-toot,  you're  a  passal  of  fools — neow  !" 

"  Mr.  Dowkins !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Rhuty  Tute  reprovingly, 
"  Beware,  Mr.  Dowkins,  what  you  say  to  sensible  persons,  or 
you  may  repent  such  conduct." 


JEDEDIAH    DOUGHKINS  195 

«  Re — pent  yourself — what  do  you  mean  by  Blu — mers  ! 
Chaw  me  up  for  gun  waddin1  if  I  understand  what  this  means 
— neow!"  replied  Jedediah  in  a  high  state  of  excitement. 

Mrs.  Doughkins  by  this  time  slightly  recovered  herself  and 
stood  up,  which  caused  her  respected  spouse  to  advance  a  foot, 
and  a-half  or  two  feet  back. 

"  Consarn  my  skin  if  yeou  don't  look  like  a  couple  of  lost 
Turks ;  du  tell  me,  Betsy  'Melia,  where  on  earth  did  you  get 
such  riggin's  out.  May  I  be  catasplasm'd  in  several  places  if  I 
ever  saw  the  like  since  Deacon  Miller's  cousin,  Ike  Barebones, 
told  me  the  world  was  cummin'  to  an  end  when  it  didn't." 

"  Why,  now  I'll  tell  you,  Mr.  Dowkins,  we're  sensible 
females,  as  you  ought  to  know,"  said  Mrs.  Rhuty  Tute,  with 
an  affectation  and  earnestness  that  caused  her  friend  to  look 
down  at  her  plump  feet  (squeezed  into  small  shoes)  in  astonish- 
ment; "and  as  Jonah  of  Arch  said  when  she  was  crowned 
Queen  of  Spain,  women  of  mind  have  a  right  to  express  them- 
selves." 

"  Consarn  your  women  of  mind !"  interrupted  Jedediah. 

"  Hear  me  out,  Mr.  Dowkins ;  it's  not  often  I  speak,  and 
when  I  do,  I  want  to  be  heard !"  continued  the  lady. 

"  Now,  look  a-here  again,  Mrs.  Rhuty  Boote " 

"  Rhuty  Tute,  if  you  please " 

"  "Well,  Rhuty  Toot,  or  Rhuty  Brute,  or  anything  yeou  like 
— that's  a  darn  wilful  mistake — yeour  tongue  runs  faster  than 
a  squirrel  up  a  sycamore,  or  a  bullet  eout  of  a  rifle.  Hold  me 
under  a  pump,  and  sleuce  me  a-drippin'  if  I  wouldn't  cut  my 
throat  with  a  biled  carrot,  and  die  an  orphan,  if  my  tongue 
waggled  like  yourn — by  Jehu!" 

-  Mr.  Dowkins  1"  screamed  Mrs.  Rhuty  Tute,  growing  very 
red  in  the  face,  and  seeming  somewhat  strange  and  uncomforta- 
ble in  the  costumes — "  Mr.  Dowkins,  do  you  mean  to  expeach 
my  integrity  ?" 

"  I  don't  care  a  toad's  blessing  what  I  peach  or  apple ;  but  I 


196  DASHES   OF    AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

mean  your  tongue  runs  wus  than  aunt  Sally  Seraggles,  and  her's 
runs  so  bad  that  they  had  to  put  a  mustard  plaster  on  her  neck 
to  draw  the  words  t'other  way." 

"  Jediah,  Jediah  !  you're  behavin'  rude  to  company,"  chimed 
in  Mrs.  Doughkins,  flouncing  about  with  an  awkard  gait. 

"  Yeou  go  and  take  off  them  Turkey  things,  and  not  make  a 
geoose  of  y  emir  self /"  replied  Jed.,  jerking  his  Jack  of  Dia- 
monds waistcoat,  and  adjusting  his  beaver.  "  If  Deacon  Dun- 
klehead,  or  any  of  his  daughters,  were  to  conrc  in  neow,  they'd 
think  yeou'd  gone  stark  mad,  so  they  would." 

"  I  tell  you  agin,  Jeddy,  I'm  a  Bloomer  I"  said  Mrs.  Dough- 
kins. 

"  You're  a  squab,  more  like — why  yeou  look  like  a  couple  of 
greased  injuns  on  a  spree,  half  men  and  half  women — go  and 
take  'em  off." 

"We  wont  do  it,  Mr.  Dowkins;  we  wont,  just  for  your  im- 
perence  !"  said  Mrs.  Rhuty  Tute.     "Will  we,  dear  ?" 

"  No,  I  guess  we  won't;  we  want  to  be  Bloomers  1"  coincided 
Mrs.  Doughkins. 

"You  won't,  won't  you?'  bellowed  Jed.,  throwing  his  hat 
down  with  a  flourish.     ';  Yeou  say  yeou  won't  ?" 

Mrs.  Rhuty  Tute  nodded  with  a  spiteful  leer. 

"  Well,  now  I  want  it  understood,  Mrs.  Jcdediah  Doughkins, 
it's  not  often  I  get  my  Ebenezer  riz,  but  may  I  be  made  into 
hard  cider  and  drank  at  'lection  day,  if  yeou  don't  go  and  take 
off  them  vulgar-lookin'  half  trowsers,  and  that  scimpy  lookin' 
frock,  I'll  go  right  off  and  dress  myself  in  petticoats,  and  ride 
straddle  into  town  on  the  gray  mare." 

Mrs.  Doughkins  screamed. 

"  I  tell  yeou  I'll  do  it,"  continued  Jcdediah;  "neow,  you'd 
better  take  'em  off.  Will  yeou  take  'em  off — speak  quick,  or  I'll 
have  the  gray  mare  saddled  in  less  than  a  flash  of  greased 
lightnin'." 

Mrs.  Doughkins  was  alarmed,  and  looked  at  Mrs.  Rhuty 


JEDEDIAH    DOUGHKINS.  197 

Tute,    who  .  seemed   somewhat   taken   aback  by   this  strange 
menace. 

"  No,  she  won't !"  exclaimed  the  latter  lady. 

"  Yes,  yes — I — I ."     Mrs.  Doughkins  was  about  to  say 

she  would,  but  her  friend  gave  her  such  a  thrilling  look  that  she 
did  not  finish  the  sentence. 

"  Very  well !  Hey,  Peleg,  saddle  up  the  mare,"  hooped  Je- 
dediah.  i:  Neow,  Betsey  'Melia,  where's  your  blue  geown  and 
the  Sunday  fan ;  I'll  turn  all  the  drawers  inside  out,  wus  than  a 
young  earthquake;"  and  seizing  the  hoe  he  made  a  rush  for  the 
stairs,  and  after  him  flew  the  "Bloomers,"  as  fast  as  their  re- 
spective obesity  would  permit. 

"  Oh !  oh  !  he'll  ruin  my  fans,"  screamed  Mrs.  Doughkins, 
waddling  up  the  stairs,  and  shouting  at  the  top  of  her  voice. 
"  And  my  blue  gown,  and  my  red  shawl ;  0  yes,  yes,  Jeddy  ;  I'll 
take  'em  off — I'll  take  'em — indeed  I  will !" 

Jcdediah,  as  good  as  his  word,  before  the  Bloomers  reached 
the  dressing-room,  had  pulled  out  the  best  bureau  drawer,  and 
commenced  ransacking  its  contents.  The  linen  and  hosiery  fell 
in  a  shower  on  the  floor. 

"  Oh,  don't,  Jeddy,  don't;  and  I'll  never  be  a  Bloomer 
agin' ;"  imploringly  screamed  his  wife,  wiping  the  cold  perspi- 
ration off  her  face,  and  sinking  at  the  foot  of  the  bed. 

11  You're  sure  you'll  never  put  them  flap-jacks  on  your  legs 
agin?" 

"  Never !" 

"  As  true  as  yeour  name's  Betsy  'Melia  Doughkins." 

"Never!" 

"  Then  I  won't  take  yeour  red  shawl,  and  yeour  blue  gown, 
nor  the  Sunday  fan,  and  ride  straddle  into  town  on  the  gray 
mare." 

"  No,  no — no,  don't,"  she  blubbered. 

"  I  won't." 

And  in  less  than  half  an  hour,  though  Mrs.  Rhuty  Tute  told 


198 


DASHES    OF    AMERICAN    HUMOR. 


her  she  was  u  an  astoniskin'  weak  woman,"  Mrs.  Doughkins  had 
shed  the  "  costume,"  and  resumed  the  good  old  skirts  of  every- 
day life,  much  to  the  satisfaction  of  her  husband,  who  gave  her 
a  kiss,  looked  black  at  the  visitor,  stroked  his  frowsy  beaver,  aud 
vowed  that  after  all  said  and  done,  he  was  the  "  condarnest  hap- 
piest cretur  alive,  if  people  wouldn't  pizcn  his  wife  with  new 
notions." 

It  is  almost  needless  to  say,  that  Mrs.  Jedediah  DoughkiDS 
has  never  since  attempted  a  "  Bloomer." 


199 


FOURTH  OF  JULY  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES. 


Reader  mine,  how  are  your  nerves  to-day  ?  In  sound  con- 
dition, say  you.  Eh  Men,  you  will  perhaps  consent  to  follow 
us  through  a  page  or  two  of  what  we  may,  for  the  nonce,  term 
an  explosive,  noisy  sort  of  literature. 

Fourth  of  July  in  the  United  States !  It  is  the  signal — the 
"  banner  on  the  outward  wall"  for  sin  and  shooting  crackers, 
pedantry  and  pinwheels,  oranges  and  orations,  sky-blue  toilettes 
and  skyrockets.  A  day  when  patriotism  pops  and  bursts  about 
like  so  many  bottles  of  sillery — when  little  boys  are  decked  in 
their  holiday-suits,  with  pleasure  in  their  eyes  and  copper  coins 
in  their  pockets — when  political  parties  give  dinners,  and  em- 
bryo orators  pour  out  the  waters  of  eloquence  as  freely  as  the 
fountains  in  Trafalgar  Square — when  interesting  young  misses 
and  matronly  mammas  throw  off  restraint  to  indulge  in  the 
pretty  fires  of  portable  pyrotechnics. 

Fourth  of  July !  It  is  a  day,  in  the  United  States,  in  a 
manner  inscribed  to  the  Goddess  of  Gunpowder.  iElius,  in 
the  classic  fable,  dedicated  one  day  in  the  week  to  burn  incense 
to  the  memory  of  Jupiter;  and  the  patriotic,  liberty-loving 
citizens  of  the  United  States  set  aside  this  day  of  every  year 
to  explode  gunpowder,  by  way  of  commemoration  of  the  Dec- 
laration of  Independence — the  spirit  of  which  document  is  still 
cherished  with  characteristic  national  fervour.  It  has  often 
struck  us  as  being  an  odd  way  of  celebrating  an  event  in  the 
annals  of  history  by  burning,  whizzing,  and  streaming  fireworks. 
The  whole  country,  from  the  borders  ef  Maine  to  the  mouth  of 


200  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

the  Mississippi,  is  a  scene  of  din  and  smoke,  reminding  us  of 
the  murky  clouds  of  Waterloo,  or  the  tumult  of  some  of  the  old 
Grecian  frays  in  the  time  of  Xerxes  and  Darius — only  the  dan- 
ger in  the  present  case  is  not  so  imminent.  Shops  arc  shut, 
tradesmen  suspend  business,  and  even  bankers  and  usurers  seem 
to  agree  that  toil  shall  have  a  gala-day.  The  young  throw  care 
to  the  canines,  and  the  old  cry  "  Nepenthe."  The  rich  and  poor 
alike  make  merry. 

The  day  is  ushered  in  with  ringing  of  bells  and  firing  of 
small-arms.  Old  pistols,  that  have  rested  peaceably  in  their 
undisturbed  neglect  the  whole  year,  are  at  this  period  hunted 
up  and  pressed  into  service,  llusty  cannon,  that  time  out  of 
mind  have  been  deemed  valueless,  are  overhauled,  and,  like 
worthy  time-worn  veterans,  again  "  thunder  o'er  the  plain," 
with  the  vigour  of  former  days,  proving  that,  though  rusty  and 
disregarded,  they  have  not  lost  their  sh-oi^Ht  of  voice.  From 
various  house-tops,  just  as  the  day  is  dawning,  flashes  of  flame 
may  be  seen  momentarily  breaking  on  the  hazy  light.  Occa- 
sionally a  roguish  boy,  prompted  by  that  indefinable  love  of 
mischief  peculiar  to  the  masculine  gender  at  an  early  age,  will 
be  observed  on  the  tiles  as  early  as  four  in  the  morning,  ex- 
ploding squibs  and  "  torpedoes,"  to  the  horror  of  the  family, 
who,  not  yet  out  of  their  beds,  and  being  suddenly  awakened 
from  their  genial  daybreak  slumbers,  are  frightened  out  of  their 
senses,  and  wonder  what  can  be  the  matter  on  the  top  of  the 
house.  Perhaps  the  young  rogue  aforesaid  has  been  industri- 
triously  a  saving  up  his  money"  for  three  months,  in  order  to 
purchase  the  noisy  toys,  and  has  smuggled  them  in  his  bed- 
room the  day  before,  not  sleeping  a  wink  that  night,  in  the  joy- 
ful anticipation  of  hearing  them  crack  and  fizz  in  the  morning. 

This  is  a  day  replete  with  hopes  and  fears,  promises  of 
enjoyment,  and  feelings  of  pleasure  to  all  classes  of  society. 
Hasty  breakfasts  are  in  order,  and  then  all  is  life  and  excite- 
ment.    The  streets  are  full  of  both  sexes,  the  most  of  whom 


FOURTH  OF  JULY  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES.       201 

are  young  people,  smartly  dressed,  and  to  all  appearance  out 
for  the  day.  A  picturesqueness  of  thoroughfare  not  peculiar 
to  the  panorama  of  American  street-life  may  be  seen.  Soldiers 
dressed  in  gay  uniforms  are  hurrying  to  their  armories,  in  all 
the  blaze  of  martial  importance.  Volunteer  corps  being  nu- 
merous, the  Fourth  of  July  is  the  universal  parade-day,  when 
"  Washington  Greys,"  «  National  Guards,"  "  State  Fencibles," 
"  Union  Blues,"  and  a  legion  of  companies,  are  to  march 
through  the  streets  for  the  purposes  of  discipline  and  commem- 
oration. Drums  briskly  clatter,  and  fifes  scream  in  concert, 
which,  together  with  the  ceaseless  detonations  of  the  fireworks, 
may  give  the  reader  an  idea  of  the  confusion,  excitement,  bus- 
tle and  clamor  that  reigns  around. 

So  many  scenes  of  stirring  novelty  are  everywhere  transpiring, 
that  unless  we  contrive  to  speak  of  them  in  order,  we  shall  get 
sadly  bewildered  in  striving  to  draw  the  various  outlines  of  the 
day's  festivities.  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say  that  the  Amer- 
icans are  devotedly  patriotic,  and  their  amor  patriee  amounts 
to  a  passionateness  peculiar  perhaps  to  few  nations.  The 
fourth  of  July,  then,  is  hallowed  with  all  possible  enthusiasm — 
that  is  to  say,  in  a  sly  corner  of  every  one's  heart  a  sacred 
spark  gently  reposes,  which,  if  fanned  by  the  breath  of  .opposi- 
tion, would  blaze  with  the  fiercest  vigor.  They  do  not  hold, 
albeit,  that  their  great  National  Holiday  should  be  distinguished 
by  dull,  sober  quietude,  or  that  any  prescribed  conventional 
sanctity  is  required. 

It  would  be  entirely  foreign  to  their  temperament ;  and  so, 
to  give  it  eclat,  it  is  created  a  brief  era  of  relaxation,  merri- 
ment, and  commemoration.  As  we  have  before  intimated, 
its  celebration  is  universal  (to  be  minute  in  inconsiderable 
facts),  except  to  the  retailers  of  fireworks,  hotel-keepers,  and 
public  conveyancers,  all  of  whom  are  making  capital  out  of  the 
popular  enthusiasm,  something  on  the  principle  that  hay  is 
made  while  the  sun  shines.     Everybody  is  on  the  wing — the 


202  DASHES    OF    AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

streets,  roads,  alleys  and  lanes  are  in  a  nutter  of  life,  and  it 
would  seem  that  the  heart  of  the  vast  country  was  afflicted 
with  a  spasmodic  palpitation.  The  handwriting  on  the  wall  of 
popular  feeling  is,  i-iic  et  ubique,  and  the  restless  populace  up- 
hold the  principle  of  the  proverb  with  Figaro-like  earnestness. 

Perhaps  the  most  distinguishable  feature  of  the  day  is  the 
reading  of  the  u  Declaration  of  Independence,"  the  duty  of 
which,  if  done  in  public,  devolves  on  some  recognized  oratory 
who,  by  general  request,  is  appointed  to  the  important  office. 
A  large  common  or  park  is  usually  selected,  whore  a  temporary 
rostrum  is  erected,  around  which  thousands  of  good  citizens 
cluster,  in  the  pride  of  republican  presence,  to  listen  to  tho 
simple  yet  eloquently  powerful  language  of  a  document  signed 
by  fifty-six  pure-minded,  unfeignedly  honest  patriots,  who  stood 
prepared  to  sacrifice  their  all  on  the  shrine  of  Freedom,  and  of 
whose  memory  the  Genius  of  Liberty  has  reared  a  glorious 
monument,  for  the  respect  and  admiration  of  the  world. 

It  may  be  that,  after  the  reading,  speeches  arc  made  by  the 
leading  politicians  of  the  district,  irrespective  of  party,  who  on 
this  occasion  bury  their  prejudices  and  extend  the  right  hand 
of  fellowship  on  the  broad  platform  of  universal  freedom. 
These  remarks  not  only  apply  to  the  large  cities  and  towns,  but 
also  to  minor  villages,  although  there  arc  exceptions,  as.  ia 
limitcdly-populated  places,  cases  may  occur  where  no  one  with 
sufficient  pretensions  to  oratory  can  be  found  to  undertake 
the  task.  It  requires  a  little  nerve,  and  a  gift  of  the  os  rotun- 
dum,  as  Hazlitt  would  write  it ;  so  that  the  honor  generally 
falls  to  the  village  lawyer,  or  perhaps  his  clerk,  if  he  be  ambi- 
tious and  self-possessed  ;  or,  if  both  of  these  swerve,  the  parson 
kindly  consents,  and,  as  a  dernier  rcssort,  the  doctor  has  been 
known  to  come  forward  at  the  last  moment,  when  all  doctors 
should  come  in,  i.  e.,  at  the  death,  and  look  his  patient  in  the  face 
in  a  new  character. 

Cases  are  frequent  where  the  declaration  is  read  after  family 


FOURTH    OF    JULY    IN    THE    UNITED    STATES.  203 

prayer  in  the  morning,  by  either  the  head  of  the  family  or  one 
of  the  sons  that  may  be  getting  on  towards  manhood.  It  will 
be  clearly  inferred  that  the  Americans  do  not  in  anywise  neg- 
lect the  decrees  of  their  -  forefathers. ,  The  injunction  of  the 
venerable  patriot,  John  Adams,  is  stamped  on  the  eternal 
memory  of  the  nation,  and  the  written  response  seems — Esto 
perjjetua.  The  memories  of  those  fine  "  old  Yankee  gentlemen" 
are  still  fresh,  and  every  name  enrolled  upon  that  Declaration 
of  Independence  is  deeply  cherished  by  their  kinsmen.  Each 
separate  autograph,  from  the  bold  flourish  of  John  Hancock, 
the  chairman,  to  the  palsied  tracery  of  Stephen  Hopkins,  is 
looked  upon  again  and  again  with  the  same  honest  glow  of 
enthusiasm,  the  same  feelings  of  devoted  gratitude.  There  they 
are,  indelibly  written  on  every  heart  in  lines  of  gold :  those 
fifty-six  names,  and  brave  and  pure-hearted  creatures  too,  de- 
serving all  of  their  apotheosis. 

Now  for  another  page  of  the  book  of  this  holiday. 

Dinners  and  Feastings.  We  may  probably  be  asked  what 
affinity  exists  between  bills  of  fare  and  patriotism  ?  We  will 
reply :  the  same  that  so  intimately  and  inseparably  allies  apple 
sauce  and  Michaelmas,  turkeys  and  New- Year's  Day,  hot-cross 
buns  and  Good  Friday,  mince-pies  and  Christmas.  What  are 
those  lines  from  Pope  ? — 

•'  The  turnpike  road  to  people's  hearts,  I  find, 
Lies  through  their  throat,  or  I  mistake  mankind." 

In  all  of  the  large  cities — take,  for  example,  New-York,  as  a 
great  metropolis  second  only  to  London  in  point  of  magnitude 
and  interest — the  various  political  sections  and  societies  make  a 
great  point  of  this  day  in  the  celebration  of  a  grand  dinner.  It 
is  the  old  gentlemen  and  young  orators  that  are  in  the  lavender 
of  happiness  here.  The  first  from  a  gastronomic  inclination ; 
the  latter  because  of  the  opportunity  afforded  them  to  launch 
out  on  the  exhaustless  theme  of  patriotism,  which  is  never  so 


204  DASHES    OF   AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

welcome  as  after  that  peculiarly  indifferent,  listless  satisfaction 
following  the  enjoyment  of  a  good  dinner. 

The  young  Fourth-of- July  orator  is  a  class  of  himself.  He 
awaits  with  a  resignation  amounting  to  positive  fortitude  the 
annual  coming  of  the  day.  He  reads  the  speeches  of  Washing- 
ton, Jefferson,  Adams,  and  Monroe,  and  marks  the  good  passages 
— those  "  bits  that  will  tell,"  and  make  the  wine  goblets  clatter 
and  the  napkins  quiver  under  the  breasts  of  rubicund-visaged 
old  gentlemen.  He  selects  strong  words  and  fiery  expressions 
to  weave  into  his  declamations;  also  one  or  two  classical  anec- 
dotes, in  order  to  assume  an  air  of  learning.  When  the  day 
comes,  what  high  feather  he  is  in,  to  be  sure  !  The  first  thing 
he  looks  at  in  the  morning  is  his  notes,  which  are  to  remind 
him  of  several  anecdotes  of  Washington,  and  a  tribute  to  the 
memory  of  the  old  veterans  of  the  Revolution.  He  is  certain 
to  speak  of  "Washington  as  the  great  and  good  man  of  his  times. 
As  Achilles,  the  son  of  Peleus  and  Thetis,  was  the  bravest  of 
the  Greeks  in  the  Trojan  war,  so  George  Washington  was  the 
greatest  chieftain  of  modern  times.  He  will  perhaps  relate  the 
anecdote  of  the  Roman  warrior  that  bit  off  the  head  of  the 
woodpecker  because  the  soothsayer  said  that  if  the  bird  lived  his 
house  would  flourish  and  Rome  decay.  This  he  will  instance 
as  a  specimen  of  by-gone  single-heartedness,  and  only  such  as 
existed  in  the  days  of  Claudius  in  Rome,  and  General  "Wash- 
ington in  America.  He  is  safe  to  tell  his  hearers  that  if  there 
were  a  war  to-morrow,  he  would  feel  a  pride — a  glorious  (a  pet 
expression)  pride  in  taking  up  arms  in  support  of  his  country. 
Of  course  he  would,  and  so  would  everybody  present,  if  the  case 
demanded  it.  This  last  appeal  will  gain  for  him  a  rattle  of  the 
glasses,  and  perhaps  some  bravos,  from  the  maudlins  at  the  end 
of  the  table,  who  have  fallen  back  in  their  chairs.  What  between 
the  wine,  the  provender,  and  the  patriotism,  the  Fourth-of- July 
orator  always  gets  red  in  the  face  when  he  speaks,  as  if  the 
crimson  of  his  subject,  by  some  unaccountable  influence,  in- 


FOURTH   OF   JULY    IN    THE    UNITED    STATES.  205 

sinuated  itself  into  his  system.  What  we  call  the  crimson  of 
the  subject  is  the  never-failing  recital  of  the  victories  of  Bunk- 
er's Hill,  Yorktown,  and  Trenton — all  of  which  fields  present 
to  the  enthusiastic  mind  stirring  scenes  of  blood  and  carnage. 
The  Fourth-of-  July  orator  does  not  drink  water  between  his 
rests  and  pauses,  He  disdains  any  fluid  short  of  champagne 
and  brandy,  which  seem  to  invest,  not  only  himself,  but  his 
subject,  with  additional  spirit.  Your  temperance  cold-water 
orators  are  apathetic  patriots  at  a  dinner-table,  being  too  definite 
and  punctilious  to  stir  up  the  mass.  Sentiments  red-hot  from 
the  furnace  of  the  heart,  and  words  as  strong  as  Sampson's 
locks,  are  in  demand.  Milk  and  amiability  are  good  things  in 
their  way,  but  to-day  aqua  vitce  and  enthusiasm  suit  the  popular 
system.  All  the  time  this  mental  fire  is  going  on  inside,  the 
fireworks  and  guns  are  blazing  away  incessantly  without ;  squibs 
sometimes  fall  at  the  orator's  feet,  and  if,  like  Charles  the 
Twelfth,  he  does  not  move  at  the  burst,  he  is  unanimously  voted 
as  a  fearless  champion  of  the  Rights  of  Liberty  !      Viva  ! 

All  public  dinners  are  discussed  with  more  or  less  fuss  and 
bustle  ;  but  a  Fourth-of- July  dinner  seems  to  surpass  all  others 
in  these  respects.  Some  stages  of  the  proceedings  of  what  is 
called  by  the  printers  in  England  a  "  way-goose  "  are  tolerably 
extravagant ;  but  these  are  eclipsed  by  far.  The  waiters  seem 
more  vivacious,  and  the  guests  more  uproariously  enthusiastic 
than  on  similar  occasions.  How  the  little  men — those  of  brief 
duck-legged  architecture — do  appear  at  these  festivals !  We 
could  almost  suspect  them,  if  we  were  to  judge  by  seeing  them 
eat,  of  having  sold  their  birthrights,  like  Esau,  for  a  beefsteak. 
Talk  to  them  of  walking  in  military  processions.  Fie  !  They 
repudiate  labour  in  whatever  shape,  preferring  to  glorify  the 
Day  of  Independence  by  a  grand  demolition  of  turkey,  with 
copious  washes  of  golden  sherry  or  libations  of  sparkling 
moselle. 

Everybody  that  is  somebody,   and  even  those  who  are  to  a 


206  DASHES   OF    AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

certain  extent  considered  nobody,  for  at  least  a  fortnight  before 
the  "  Fourth,"  have  pockets  full  of  tickets  to  sell,  for  this  or 
that  grand  dinner.  It  is  dangerous  to  walk  in  a  hurry  along  a 
principal  thoroughfare,  as  every  friend  you  meet  is  sure  to  stop 
you,  in  the  hope  that^  "  you'll  just  purchase  a  ticket  for  the 
"  Greys' "  dinner — it  will  be  such  a  beautiful  affair ;"  or  "  your 
appearance  would  add  so  much  to  the  fete  of  the  Sons  of  Tem- 
perance, to  be  given  at  the Gardens.''     It  may  be  that 

you  have  promised  your  family  to  dine  at  home  on  the  "  Fourth," 
and  consequently  object  to  being  present  at  any  other  dinner 
saving  your  own ;  but  the  friend  is  importunate.  He  was  never 
known  to  take  "  no  "  for  an  answer  ;  and  in  order  to  disentangle 
yourself  from  his  meshes,  you  are  in  the  end  compelled  to  take 
a  ticket,  and  march  off  with  it  in  your  waistcoat  pocket,  with 
the  idea  that  dinners  are  a  bore  when  they  are  so  unceremo- 
niously thrust  upon  you. 

We  have  said  that  these  dinners  are  got  up  on  a  scale  of 
magnificence.  Extravagance  exerts  her  golden  wand  without 
limitation  here  ;  but  the  good  denizens  deem  it  patriotic,  occur- 
ring only  u  once  a  year,"  and  wink  at  the  prodigality.  Old 
misers,  as  close-fisted  as  ghouls,  relax  their  avarice  to-day,  and 
give  their  souls  and  bodies  a  respite  from  the  iron  drudgery  of 
life.  The  milk  and  honey  of  yore  flowed  not  freer  than  do  the 
dainties  of  life.  The  expense  of  every  object  conducive  to 
pleasure,  from  a  squib  to  a  dinner  party,  is  most  unequivocally 
and  systematically  damned,  as  surely  as  he  in  the  play  would 
have  been  had  he  dared  to  cry — li  Hold,  enough !" 

But  we  must  get  on  with  the  dinuer. 

After  the  cloth  has  been  removed,  the  speeches  and  toasts 
commence.  A  band  is  in  attendance,  and  a  regular  series  of 
toasts,  similar  to  the  following,  are  given  and  drunk  with  en- 
thusiasm : — 

The  Day  we  celebrate — may  it  ever  be  remembered  with  gratitude 
and  patriotism.     Air — "  Yankee  Doodle." 


FOURTH   OP   JULY    IN    THE    UNITED    STATES.  207 

Our  country  always  right ;  but  right  or  wrong,  our  country  still. 
Air — "  Hail  Columbia." 

The  Union.     Air — "  Star-spangled  banner." 

The  President  of  the  United  States — His  noblest  prerogative  a 
faithful  execution  of  the  laws.  Air — "  President's  March." — (Three 
cheers  and  a  tiger.) 

The  Army  and  Navy — their  brilliant  achievements  proclaim  their 
glory.     Air — "  March  to  the  Battle  Field." 

The  memory  of  General  George  Washington — the  first  in  war,  the 
first  in  peace,  and  the  first  in  the  hearts  of  his  countrymen. — 
(Drank  in  silence.) 

The  Constitution — the  palladium  of  our  political  and  religious 
liberties  ;  upon  a  faithful  adherence  and  strict  construction  depends 
the  perpetuity  of  the  American  Republic.  Air — "  Jefferson's 
March." 

State  Rights,  the  surest  guarantee  against  sectional  encroach- 
ments.    Air — "  Calhoun's  March." 

The  Heroes  of  the  Revolution — May  their  posterity  emulate  their 
noble  example.     Air — "  Auld  Lang  Syne." 

The  Independent  Press — the  faithful  guardians  of  the  people's 
rights.     Air — "  Franklin's  March." 

The  Centrifugal  Force  of  the  Constitution — May  it  link  these  con- 
federated States  into  the  unrelaxing  embrace  with  which  the  earth 
clasps  the  sea. 

Education — the  fountain  from  which  a  nation  receives  power  and 
prosperity. 

Woman — Heaven's  choicest  gift — her  true  value  cannot  be  esti- 
mated.    Air — ::  Green  grow  the  rashes,  0  !" 

The  last  is  never  forgotten,  which  is  but  a  commentary  on 
the  deference  exercised  towards  the  sex  in  the  United  States. 

We  will  now  say  a  word  about  the  military  pageants. 

This  is  also  a  very  great  day  for  the  military,  which,  numer- 
ous as  it  is,  appears  in  all  its  strength.  In  order  to  give  the 
reader  a  clearer  idea  of  the  general  muster,  we  will  take  for  ex- 
ample the  City  of  New- York.  The  Commander-in-Chief  of  the 
volunteer  forces  issues  an  order  for  general  parade,  which  is  well 


208  DASHES   OF    AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

responded  to.  The  line  is  formed  very  frequently  of  ten  thou* 
Band  soldiers,  which  being  comprised  of  various  companies,  in 
different  habiliments,  the  effect  is  picturesque  and  imposing.  A 
route  of  march  is  selected  through  the  largest  and  most  import- 
ant streets,  and  gaily  the  bright  lines  make  their  way  through 
crowds  of  spectators,  with  dogs  barking,  handkerchiefs  waving, 
powder  cracking,  boys  shouting,  the  populace  cheering,  and  the 
polished  bayonets  of  the  soldiers  glittering  like  gleams  of  flame 
in  the  rich  sunlight.  It  is  a  cheering  solace  to  the  soldiers  while 
marching  (the  reader  bearing  in  mind  that  it  is  a  hot  day,  with 
Fahrenheit  perhaps  at  96  deg.,  and  the  perspiration  starting  from 
every  pore)  to  know  that  bright  eyes  are  beaming  on  them  from 
every  window.  How  the  cambric  flutters  in  the  breeze  as  it  is 
held  by  white  and  jewelled  hands  !  The  soldier  glances  a 
and  meets  perhaps  the  gaze  of  one  who  is  dear  to  him — she  has 
promised  him  that  she  will  be  at  a  certain  station  to  sec  him  pass 
in  his  regimentals— he  re  turns  the  approving  smile,  and  marches 
on  with  a  heart  lighter  than  the  lounging  townsman,  who  only 
lolls  at  his  window,  on  a  damask  couch,  to  witness  the  great 
parade  "drag  its  slow  length  along."  It  would  seem  rather  a 
labour  than  a  pleasure  to  walk  uninterruptedly  three  or  four 
hours  in  the  hot  sun,  dressed  in  thick  garments  ;  but  it  is  the 
perpetuation  of  an  old  custom,  and  the  volunteers  nobly  sacrifice 
not  a  little  comfort  to  conform  with  it. 

July  is  an  intensely  warm  month  in  the  States,  and  by  some 
weather-freak,  the  fourth,  of  all  days,  is  the  very  fiercest.  Shirt- 
collars,  after  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning,  do  not  pretend  to  stand, 
but  fall  over,  bc-drenched  like  welted  mullein-tops.  By  the 
time  the  soldiers  are  dispersed,  they  look  half-cooked,  and  per- 
haps their  gay  uniform  is  dotted  with  small  incisions  made  by  the 
banging  of  the  fire-crackers  over  which  they  have  unconsciously 
passed.  Yonder  is  a  group  of  the  "  State  Fencibles,"  in  scarlet 
coats  and  blue  breeches.  They  have  come  on  from  the  City  of 
Philadelphia,  by  invitation  of  the  Brooklyn  Continentals,  to  par* 


FOURTH  OF  JULY  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES.       209 

ticipate  in  the  festivities  of  New- York.  We  will  draw  near 
them,  and  hear  what  they  are  saying. 

"  "Well,  Josh,  how  do  you  feel  ?"  says  one  of  the  group,  ad- 
dressing a  short,  thick-set  man,  with  a  very  red  countenance, 
over  which  the  little  drops  of  water  are  coursing  playfully,  and 
pushing  each  other  off  at  the  end  of  his  chin,  "  I'm  pretty  nearly 
used  up  myself." 

"  Feel,"'  replies  the  short  man,  applying  his  handkerchief  to 
his  face,  "just  as  if  I'd  been  six  weeks  in  an  oven  eating  hot 
coals.  Hang  me  !  if  I  think  the  general  should  order  out  the 
division  when  it's  so  terrific.  My  countenance  ran  like  Niagara 
Falls  while  I  was  in  the  lines.  1*11  lay  a  dollar  you  could  track 
me  like  a  watering-pot  all  along  Broadway !" 

"  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  !"  laugh  the  soldiers  in  noisy  concert. 

"  Phew,  isn't  it  hot?"  remarks  another  of  the  group,  remov- 
ing his  hat,  and  taking  a  long,  deep  breath.  "  I've  a  proposi- 
tion :  suppose  we  go  over  to  the  Astor  House  and  take  a  sherry 
cobbler  all  round.  It'll  do  us  good ;  and  then  we  will  get  ready 
for  dinner.     What  do  you  say,  boys  ?" 

"  I  wonder  where  Colonel  Page  is,"  remarks  a  stout  man; 
#  he'll  dine  with  some  of  the  politicians,  and  make  a  speech. 
The  colonel  is  a  long-winded  little  fellow,  and  never  gives  up  the 
ship  for  trifles." 

"  Not  he !"  chimes  in  a  fourth  red-coat.  And  accordingly, 
the  group  take  the  pavement  in  little  squads,  with  the  deter- 
mination of  refreshing  themselves  at  the  Astor  House.  We 
will  not  see  them  as  far  as  the  dinner-table,  for  we  can  rest  as- 
sured that  they  are  booked  for  a  plate  and  napkin  in  good 
quarters.  Now  that  the  parade  is  over,  uniforms  dot  the 
streams  of  pedestrians  every  way  the  eye  turns,  but  they  look 
figged  and  weary  under  the  scorching  sun.  Some  hasten  to 
divest  themselves  of  their  heavy  regimentals;  others  content 
themselves  with  a  simple  rest,  and  then  hie  to  one  of  the  grand 
dinners  we  have  spoken  of.     Away  they  go,  each  bent  on  a  dif- 


210  DASHES   OF    AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

ferent  destination,  but  all  in  the  pursuit  of  happiness.  By  night- 
fall, the  scarlet  is  scarce,  it  having  been  cast  aside  for  the  more 
sober  garb  of  citizenship.  The  sabres,  sashes,  and  epaulettes  I 
are  carefully  hung  up  in  great  closets,  while  formidable  guns  and 
inhospitable  bayonets  repose  harmlessly  in  their  cases,  uncon- 
scious  of  the  admiration  they  have  elicited  from  the  wondering   1 

gaze. 

«  •  •  •  # 

The  sun  has  gone  down  in  the  heavens,  and  left  a  track  of 
gold  and  purple  shooting  its  soft  feathery  rays  of  light  over 
the  drifting  clouds.  The  dim  etherial  twilight  now  steals  in 
with  its  edge  of  gray,  confusing  the  vision  and  robbing  the  light 
of  that  intangible  silver  which  lends  such  beauty  to  the  day- 
god's  reign. 

What  was  that  cluster  of  stars  that  fell  with  a  sudden  hiss 
into  the  blue  waters  of  the  bay  ?  A  sky-rocket  ?  True — it  is 
time  for  the  fireworks  to  commence ;  and  now  we  shall  have  the 
really  brilliant  phase  of  the  festivities  of  this  day  of  jubilee. 
Bang  !  bang  !  bang  !  Hear  the  incessant  reports  of  the  guns  in 
the  distance,  each  one  gleaming  with  its  jet  of  flame.  Hark  j 
A  cannon,  far,  far  out  on  the  river,  has  sent  its  booming  messen- 
ger to  wake  the  echoes  along  the  banks  of  the  Hudson.  Turn 
an  car  to  the  city,  and  the  noise  is  terrific.  Glance  along  the 
vista ;  how  the  little  shooting-crackers  sparkle  and  coruscate,  as 
if  the  stars  had  condescended  to  come  upon  earth,  and  have  a 
regular  flare  up,  just  for  the  fun  of  the  thing.  We  must  keep  a 
bright  look  out  for  them. 

Whiz  go  the  rockets,  cleavingly  into  the  air  with  many  a  snap, 
crack,  and  whir  !  Some  shower  silver  stars,  others  red — as  if  a 
cherubim  had  thrown  away  a  handful  of  rubies — perhaps  green, 
orange,  and  blue.  How  magnificent  the  spectacle  !  High  and 
loftily  it  mounts,  like  the  impatient  bolt  of  a  war-horse ;  grad- 
ually the  sound  diminishes ;  we  hear  a  gentle  report,  like  a  pis- 
tol discharged  high  in  the  air,  and  then  the  scattered  lights 


•  FOURTH   OF   JULY    IN   THE    UNITED    STATES.  211 

dance  on  the  bosom  of  the  darkness  with  fairy-like  brilliancy. 
Now  they  flicker  and  run  in  grotesque  circles  ;  all  expire  save 
one,  which  seems  coquetting  with  the  air  currents — ah  !  its  turn 
has  come  ;  like  a  bright  hope  quickly  crushed,  it  has  fled,  and 
all  again  is  dark  and  solemn  above. 

Once  more  the  air  is  stirred  by  drifting  flakes  of  emerald  fire, 
that,  illumining  the  space  around,  reveal  tens  of  thousands  of 
spectators  collected  with  upturned  eyes,  gazing  at  the  pyrotechnic 
wonders.  Up  bound  the  serpents — orange  and  brazen.  How 
they  twizzle  and  fizzle  with  their  bright  curves  in  the  soft  night 
air !  Then  the  Roman  candles  pop  out  the  little  red  balls  of 
fire,  suggesting  to  the  mind  an  endless  visitation  of  electrical 
sugar -plums.  The  wheels  flash  and  dart  forth  their  spiral 
threads  of  light — every  revolution  raining  a  myriad  of  golden 
flecks,  that  fall  like  Jupiter's  artificial  shower  on  the  couch  of 
Dange.  Then  there  are  larger  pieces  of  fireworks — such,  for 
example,  as  the  Temple  of  Liberty,  which,  with  its  columns  of 
lurid  flame,  wreaths  of  metallic  brightness,  and  the  name  of 
WASHING-TON,  in  silver  lights,  quivering  through  the  lucid 
arches,  form  a  scene  of  dazzling  beauty,  momentarily  enchaining 
and  bewildering  the  gaze. 

This  grand  display  is  the  omega  of  the  day's  expenditure  of 
gunpowder.  The  boys  have  singed  their  finger-ends  finely  all 
day  long  in  exploding  square,  red-covered  packs  of  Chinese 
shooting-crackers,  the  queer  characters  on  which,  we  confess,  we 
were  never  able  to  decipher,  being  as  mysterious  to  our  compre- 
hension as  that  ornamental  work  one  sometimes  observes  on 
Welsh  smock-frocks,  the  peculiar  twist  of  which  we  find  it 
impossible  to  define.  The  city  smells  at  night  as  if  it  had  under- 
gone a  fierce  bombardment,  what  between  the  fumes  of  the  sul- 
phur and  the  lingering  odour  of  the  pistol-shots.  On  every 
side  a  wad  may  be  seen  smoking,  or  a  shred  of  tow  burning  with 
a  dense  smoke.  The  usually  red  pavements  are  charred  and 
blackened  by  the  blasts  of  powder,  and  even  the  sides  of  the 


212  DASHES   OF    AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

houses  seem  more  gloomy  than  usual.  Till  past  midnight  the 
noise  and  din  are  continued.  "Whichever  way  the  eye  turns,  we 
care  not  where  the  gazer  may  stand,  a  coruscating  gleam  flashes 
on  his  view,  either  high  in  the  air,  or  just  darts  like  a  will-o'- 
the-wisp  around  the  peaks  of  the  steeples  in  the  distance. 

The  morning  papers  abound  with  accounts  of  accidents  the 
next  morning  ;  some  poor  unfortunate  having  lost  an  eye  or  an 
arm  by  the  premature  explosion  of  the  guns  or  rockets.  It 
must  be  expected  that  where  so  much  danger  is  present  all  can- 
not escape  unharmed ;  and  our  only  wonder  is.  that  the  celebra- 
tion of  the  day  is  not  attended  with  more  disastrous  results  than 
usually  occur. 

By  the  dawn  of  the  fifth,  the  last  rocket  has  mounted  to  the 
clouds,  and  a  farewell  squib  frets  itself  into  atoms  on  the  ground 
beneath.  The  patriots  by  this  time  have  laid  aside  pistols  for 
pillows — the  little  boys  have  done  following  the  soldiers,  and 
are  enjoying  sunny  dreams  of  candy  and  fireworks — the  orator 
has  blended  his  harangue  with  a  snooze  ;  and  so  we  leave  the 
Fourth  of  July  commemorators  all  alone  in  their  respective 
glories. 


213 


SCRAPS  OF  NAUTICAL  NONSENSE. 


O  never  go  to  sea, 
Or  over  you'll  be  keeling, 

'Tis  such  a  very  extra- 
Ordinary  feeling!— Tony  Lumpkin 

We  often  hear  people  boast  of  having  been  at  sea,  and  sit  and 
chat  by  the  hour  of  the  pleasant  times  they  had  on  what  they 
are  pleased  to  call  the  "laughing  waves;"  but  for  our  part  we 
must  confess  that  we  never  thought  tumbling  about  the  damp 
decks  of  an  old  vessel  much  of  a  laughing  matter. 

Dear  reader,  in  the  course  of  your  natural  existence  have  you 
ever  ventured  out  of  sight  of  land  ?  Perhaps  you  have  run  over 
from  Dover  to  the  marine  City  of  Boulogne,  and  had  a  toss  on 
that  frightful  of  all  waters,  the  British  Channel ;  or  it  may  be 
that  you  have  luxuriated  at  Bamsgate,  and  gazed  with  an  eye 
of  curiosity  at  the  obelisk  erected  to  commemorate  the  landing 
of  George  the  Fourth,  or  smiled  as  you  thought  of  the  pleasant 
fiction  connected  with  the  architectural  wonder,  called  "  Jacob's 
Ladder."  Or,  now  we  think  again,  it  may  be  that  once  upon  a 
time,  during  the  season  at  Brighton,  you  took  it  into  your  head 
to  steam  it  over  to  Dieppe — that  ugly  old  fishing  town  on  the 
coast  of  France — which  the  author  of  the  "  Memories  Chrono- 
logiques"  would  have  us  believe  was  founded  by  Charlemagne) 
and  pointedly  honoured  at  various  periods  by  the  visits  of  the 
Emperor  Napoleon.  How  do  we  know  that  you  have  not  been 
to  each  of  the  Cinque  ports,  for  the  matter  of  that,  by  way  of  a 
pleasure  trip,  just  long  enough  to  feel  a  slight  mat  cle  mer  ? 


214  DASHES   OF    AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

All  quite  probable,  to  be  sure.  For  our  own  part,  we  nave 
been  to  sea  several  times,  and  are  fully  cognizant  of  the  dreary 
sensations  it  produces.  The  Bay  of  Biscay  tries  one  dreadfully 
— the  English  Channel  is  voted  unanimously  atrocious — and 
the  Atlantic  Ocean,  at  certain  periods,  may  with  safety  be  called 
unpleasant,  to  employ  the  mildest  term  that  this  moment  occurs 
to  us. 

The  nauseous  prostration  of  sea-sickness  no  pen  can  "well" 
describe.  Imagine  a  torch-light  procession  of  political  cele- 
brators  in  the  cerebellum,  with  an  Irish  wake  in  the  cerebrum, 
and  the  entire  possession  of  your  abdominal  precincts  by  an  in- 
termittent and  deadly  languor,  and  perhaps  we  convey  a  "  faint" 
idea  of  the  feeling.  Bnt  we  do  not  design  to  give  our  friends 
the  dumps  by  relating  the  miseries  of  this  illness,  but  rather  to 
communicate  a  few  little  adventures  we  experienced  on  our  first 
voyage  across  the  Atlantic  some  year  or  two  ago. 

We  left  New-York  on  a  bright  beautiful  day  in  September, 
in  a  first-class  liner,  bound  for  Liverpool,  and  our  heart  beat  at 
the  glorious  prospect  of  "  going  to  sea  I"  The  idea  was  new  to 
us  then,  for  we  knew  nothing  of  its  plagues  and  perils.  There 
was  something  so  romantic  in  the  mere  consideration,  that  we 
did  not  '-think  ahead,"  as  the  skipper  expressed  it ;  nor  did  we 
care  to  nip  in  the  bud  the  pretty  posies  of  imagination  that  our 
vivid  fane}'  had  created.  "When  we  had  been  out  a  day  or  two. 
however,  these  flowers  began  to  fade  away  very  fast.  We  saw 
nothing  but  sky  and  water — 

'•  The  blue  above  and  the  blue  below," 

and  everything  began  to  appear  sort  of  upside-downy.  The  day 
of  embarkation  our  memory  was  haunted  by  innumerable  frag- 
ments of  maritime  poetry.  We  stood  upon  the  deck,  and  look- 
ing out  on  the  waters,  with  our  arms  folded,  and  a  dramatic 
curve  of  the  lip,  thought — 

"  What  a  noble  sight  is  the  calm  blue  sea, 
When  the  monarch  of  day  goes  down." 


SCRAPS    OF   NAUTICAL    NONSENSE.  215 

Then  we  would  stroll  around  the  cabin,  and  peep  into  -the  state- 
rooms, or  chat  with  the  man  at  the  wheel,  and  presently  more 
poetry  would  occur  to  us.  The  great  expanse  of  waters  was 
sublime  without  question — 

Without  a  mark,. without  a  bound, 

It  runneth  the  earth's  wide  regions  round." 

0  !  yes,  the  very  thought  was  prodigious.  By-and-bye  we  would 
grow  confidentially  vocal,  and — 

"  A  home  on  the  rolling  deep," 

was  suggested  by  this  "  life  on  the  ocean  wave." 

The  second  day  it  was  dull  and  dreary — not  a  beam  of  sun- 
light fell  upon  the  dark  mass  of  waters,  and  somehow  or  the 
other,  our  poetical  feelings  had  all  vanished.  After  breakfast 
we  felt  heavy  and  sullen,  and,  coming  on  deck,  we  like  to  have 
broke  our  nose  by  bumping  against  the  capstan,  and  still  further 
discomfited  the  equilibrium  of  our  nerves  by  tumbling  success- 
ively over  three  coils  of  filthy  wet  rope.  Not  a  shadow  of  a 
stanza  obtruded  itself  on  our  disturbed  mentals ;  sentiment  had 
given  way  to  sickness  ;  and  long  before  it  was  time  to  dress  for 
dinner,  we  were  reluctantly  compelled  to  seek  the  confines  of 
our  state-room,  and  undergo  a  dismal  perturbation  of  bile  that 
almost  inevitably  falls  to  the  lot  of  inexperienced  landsmen. 

Some  people  love  lingo,  and  such  may  go  to  sea.  AYe  got 
sick  of  nautical  phrases,  and  vainly  endeavored  to  escape  the 
torture  of  the  first-mate,  who  was  perpetually  commanding  the 
sailors  to  "  let  go  the  main-topgallant  haulyards,"  or  "  double-  reef 
the  mizen-topsail,"  or  "  luff  half  a  point  (pint,  he  pronounced 
it).  Then  the  second  mate,  during  his  watch,  appeared  to  think 
of  nothing  on  earth  but  some  outrageous  expression  in  which  to 
indulge  his  authority.  His  favourites  appeared  to  be — "  Clue 
up  the  main-royal,"  "  Set  the  fore-topmast  studding-sail,"  (pro- 
nounced "  stensil."  How  the  sailors  clip  their  words  !)  "  Brace 
by  the  yard ;"  and  there  was  no  end  to  one  expression  that  we 


216  DASHES    OF    AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

have  heard  so  frequently  in  nautical  pieces  on  the  stage,  always 
shouted  by  the  sailor  of  the  play — a  bluff,  honest  fellow,  very 
tall,  who  chews  pigtail,  and  talks  a  great  deal  to  a  lot  of  dirty- 
looking  men,  whom  he  is  sure  to  call  "  lubbers."  We  mean 
that  elegant  sentence,  "  Belay,  there  !"  If  a  sailor  touched  a 
rope,  the  odious  term  was  sure  to  ring  from  one  side  of  the  ves- 
sel to  the  other,  so  that  we  grew  weary  of  hearing  it.  There 
was  a  great  deal  more  said  about  "  spanker-sheets,"  ';  weather- 
braces,"  and  once  in  a  great  while,  one  of  the  tars  w<>uld  retjiiest 
"  our  timbers  to  be  shivered, ";  which  request  we  are  happy  to 
record  nobody  took  the  slightest  notion  of,  or  possibly  we  might 
have  gone  to  the  bottom. 

There  was  one  grand  relief  to  the  tedium  of  our  passage  in 
the  shape,  or  more  properly  "  shapes"  of  several  decided  char- 
acters among  the  passengers.  We  confess  a  love  of  waggery, 
and  although  we  will  not  '-lose  our  friend  to  have  our  jest,'' 
yet  we  will  go  a  long  distance,  and  over  a  very  jagged  road,  to 
witness  the  caprices  of  c<  Father  Fun.''  We  had  almost  seventy 
steerage  passengers  on  board  returning  to  the  land  of  their 
birth,  and  their  place  of  abiding  was  anything  but  Elysian,  the 
steerage  being  a  decided  cross  between  a  stable  and  a  respectable 
pig-sty.  There  was  one  corpulent  old  man  among  these,  a 
faithful  portrait  of  *v  Bacchus.''  as  he  i^  represented  in  the  picto- 
rial  mythology.  Everything  was  complete — the  white  beard,  jolly 
red  nose,  vacant  leer,  and  so  on ;  and  to  carry  out  the  resem- 
blance, as  it  were,  he  constantly  sat  astride  a  cask  of  water  on 
the  main  deck,  selecting  it  probably  in  preference  to  the  softest 
plank  he  could  pick  out  for  his  comfort.  But  it  was  the  cabin 
that  afforded  the  fun.  One  of  the  passengers,  a  very  tall,  slim, 
sour-tempered  personage,  who  wore  spectacles  and  a  speckled 
cravat,  had  taken  the  journey  with  the  view  of  improving  his 
health,  and  in  the  course  of  a  casual  conversation  with  him,  we 
discovered  that  he  had  a  whimsical  desire  to  grow  fat.  Although 
he  was  a  distant,  ill-grained  man  in  his  manners,  we  found  that 


SCRAPS    OF   NAUTICAL    NONSENSE.  217 

this  feeling  amounted  to  little  short  of  a  monomania.  "We  met 
him  generally  after  dinner  on  deck,  and  one  day  proffered  him  a 
cigar. 

"  Thank  you,  no,"  said  he  decliningly.  "  I  fear  smoking  pro- 
duces emaciation." 

"  There  seems  to  be  a  diversity  of  opinion  on  that  subject," 
we  remarked.  "  The  proselytes  of  Walter  Raleigh  say  nay, 
while  some  of  Graham's  madmen  run  out  against  the  'weed' 
fearfully." 

He  attempted  a  smile. 

"  Come,  you'd  better  try  one.  It's  a  luxuriant  Havana — an 
unexceptionable  brand,"  pressed  we. 

"  No,  thank  you,"  he  concluded,  after  a  moment's  hesitation. 
"  I  fear  the  results,  and  already  I  am  ghastly  slender." 

Our  captain  at  dinner  one  day  remarked,  that  soup  produced 
flesh.  The  lean  man  heard  him ;  his  eyes  sparkled  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  for  weeks  after  he  eat  little  but  broth.  Frequently 
would  we  hear  him  suborn  the  steward  to  make  him  soup  in  the 
evening,  and  as  often  observed  that  worthy  functionary  of  the 
vessel  slyly  conveying  to  the  state-room  of  the  patient  a  huge 
bowl  of  some  wishy-washy  preparation,  reeking  with  pepper, 
and  sending  up  its  curls  of  transparent  smoke  among  the  beam 
bits. 

There  was  a  great  scarcity  of  books  on  board,  and  nobody 
appeared  to  be  supplied  but  our  meagre  friend,  who  had  a  small 
library  of  entertaining  novels,  which  he  bluntly  and  uncourte- 
(ffusly  refused  to  lend  under  any  circumstances.  Everybody  run 
out  of  reading  matter,  having  consumed  their  stock  of  books, 
newspapers,  advertisements  and  everything  printed ;  and,  to 
make  it  more  provoking,  this  man  would  sit  about  the  cabin 
with  a  pile  of  tempting,  delicious-looking  tomes  by  his  side, 
upon  the  covers  of  which  we  were  "  bound"  only  to  gratify  our 
latent  curiosity,  feeding  on  their  contents  only  in  imagination. 
(It  is  an  astonishing  fact  that  one  always  feels  most  disposed  to 


218  DASHES    OF    AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

read  when  books  are  scarce.)  These  hooks  finally  got  to  be 
positive  eyesores,  when  one  of  the  passengers,  a  young  gentleman, 
laid  a  wager  with  us,  that  we  would  not  be  able  to  borrow 
"  Macaulay's  England"  from  him,  and  he  would  give  us  three 
days  to  do  it  in.  We  accepted  the  wager — a  bottle  of  "  Lon- 
don Dock" — and  set  about  our  task.  All  at  once  we  were  the 
constant  companion  of  the  lean  man,  and  every  day  we  raked 
up  all  the  anecdotes  we  remember  ever  to  have  heard  wherewith 
to  amuse  him.  Sometimes  we  extracted  a  laugh,  sometimes 
only  a  smile  ;  but  it  was  certain  that  we  were  getting  into  what 
folks  would  call  his  good  graces.  Finally,  we  said  to  him  one 
day,  as  if  it  were  by  the  merest  accident,  "  Gracious  me  !  how 
vou're  picking  up  in  flesh." 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?"  he  returned.  "  Well,  I'm  not  able  to  see 
it  myself." 

"  I'm  sure  you  are ;  and  I  would  not  be  surprised  if  this 
voyage  were  to  make  you  absolutely  fat." 

This  was  a  clincher.  The  slim  man  from  that  moment  was 
our  friend.  He  entirely  altered  the  tone  of  his  manner  towards 
us,  becoming  in  a  degree  confidential  and  communicative  beyond 
conception. 

The  next  day,  in  the  course  of  conversation,  we  again  referred 
to  the  improved  state  of  his  body ;  and,  by  way  of  conclusion, 
thought  that  if  he  went  on  improving  so  rapidly  he  would 
acquire  a  plumpness  as  surprising  as  even  Daniel  Lambert  him- 
self. 

He  laughed,  actually  gave  vent  to  a  series  of  self-satisfied 
chuckles,  and  before  we  parted  he  interrogated  us  on  the  state 
of  our  literary  stock. 

"  Well,"  said  we  carelessly,  <;  the  fact  is,  books  are  rather 
scarce,  and  if  you  can  spare  it,  I  should  like  to  borrow  '  Macau- 
lay's  England.' " 

"  Spare  it !  with  pleasure ;  anything  else  I  have  is  at  your 
service :"  and  immediately  he  produced  what  we  desired.     We 


SCRAPS  OF  NAUTICAL  NONSENSE.  219 

hurried  to  our  friend  with  whom  we  had  the  wager.  He  gazed 
upon  the  volume  with  an  eye  of  distrust,  thinking  we  had  pos- 
sibly, by  some  power  of  hocus-pocus,  possessed  ourselves  of  a 
duplicate  copy  of  the  same  work.  But  no,  we  had  won,  and 
fairly,  and  the  "  London  Dock"  was  drunk  in  a  scries  of  liba- 
tions, much  to  the  enjoyment  of  the  passengers.  All  of  those 
who  were  fond  of  reading  took  the  hint,  and  immediately  dis- 
covered with  us,  that  the  lean  man  had  got  suddenly  fleshy.  The 
consequence  was,  in  less  than  a  week  his  books  were  pretty 
thoroughly  distributed,  and  we  all  had  as  much  as  we  could  do 
in  the  way  of  wading  through  light  literature. 

There  was  an  old  lady-dowager  on  board — one  who  fancied 
she  belonged  to  the  creme  cle  la  crime  of  society,  as  Mrs.  Trol- 
lope  would  say — nervous,  talkative,  and  distressingly  officious. 
Nothing  was  afloat  but  she  had  a  finger  in  the  pastry.  You 
could  not  breathe  but  she  knew  it;  and  a  young  man,  her 
nephew,  who  accompanied  her,  was  an  edition,  in  "  boots  and 
beaver,"  of  his  garrulous  relative.  They  had  been  rambling 
over  America  in  search  of  novelty,  to  dispel  ennui,  to  use  the 
language  of  the  dowager  herself.  The  nephew  was  one  of  the 
11  nice  young  man"  species,  between  that  and  a  man-milliner, 
with  a  little  essence  cle  Patchouli/  to  make  him  odoriferous.  He 
wore  his  hair  combed  sleekly  down  on  his  cheeks,  and  his  nose 
seemed  obstinately  determined  to  crook  at  the  end,  something 
like  a  parrot's  beak,  or  the  head  of  a  shepherd's  staff.  His 
complexion  seemed  to  us  a  dingy  pink,  about  the  colour  of  what 
ballet-girls  call  "  fleshings,"  which  are  worn  so  much  in  fairy 
spectacles,  when  the  wearer  appears  as  a  nymph,  or  a  naiad,  or 
some  other  gauze-petticoated  immortal.  But  for  all  this,  the 
youth  thought  himself  "handsome,"  and  his  aunt  called  him 
"  purty" — what  an  abominable  word — when  speaking  of  him 
behind  his  back,  at  least  a  score  of  times  a-day.  Once  per  diem 
he  would  contrive  to  fancy  himself  ill ;  which,  happening  just 
about  ten  minutes  before  dinner,  was  sure  to  call  forth  a  world 


220  DASHES    OF    AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

of  maudlin  sympathy  from  the  old  dowager.  If  there  is  any- 
thing provoking  it  is  talking  of  constitutional  infirmities  over 
plates.  Dinner  is  no  time  to  discuss  physics.  Light  repartee, 
or  witticism,  are  far  better  concomitants  of  the  meal.  Ilelio- 
gabulus,  and  that  other  old  epicure — what  is  his  name — Apicius 
— who  it  is  said  committed  suicide  beean.se  his  fortune  was  re- 
duced to  five  hundred  thousand  dollars,  fearing  that  Mini  would 
not  purchase  him  a  choice  of  luxuries  during  the  remainder  of 
his  life — cither  of  those  old  fellows  would  have  choked  that  old 
dowager,  as  certain  as  fate,  she  was  so  full  of  the  delicacy  of  her 
nephew's  health  at  meal-times. 

Among  the  lady  passengers  was  a  very  pretty,  plump,  French- 
looking  little  blonde,  named  Marie.  Her  grace  and  winning 
manners  charmed  everybody,  and  most  especially  this  delicate 
youth,  who  was  eternally  after  her  when  he  heard  the  rustle  of 
her  robe  in  the  cabin.  It  was  very  plain  to  be  seen — no  ghost 
having  any  "  earthly"  reason  to  resume  vitality  to  tell  us — that 
Marie  did  not  care  a  pin  about  her  adorer  (for  such  lie  called 
himself)  we  believe),  but  rather  tolerated  his  blandishments  and 
amative  advances  for  her  own  amusement.  Some  time  after  his 
presentation  to  Marie,  we  observed  the  young  man  every  day 
lying  on  his  back  in  the  sun  in  a  very  conspicuous  place.  We  said 
nothing,  but  could  not  divine  what  possessed  the  fellow  to  lay  so 
much  on  his  back,  the  sun  being  hot  enough  to  peel  the  skin  off  his 
face.  Still  he  did  it,  and  still  our  wonder  grew.  It  came  out 
in  the  end  that  little  Marie,  having  told  him  playfully,  and  of 
course  in  sheer  irony,  that  he  had  a  handsome  profile,  the  con- 
ceited lout  was  eternally  on  his  back  to  show  it  to  the  best  ad- 
vantage. One  of  our  companions  chancing  to  be  a  tolerable 
sketcher,  he  drew  endless  views  of  side-faces,  of  all  kinds  and 
patterns,  on  every  piece  of  baggage  we  could  find  that  belonged 
to  the  ninny.  The  discovery  of  these  chalk  portraits  cured  him 
of  his  folly,  and  he  never  laid  on  his  back  again  that  voyage  to 
show  his  facial  outlines. 


SCRAPS    OF    NAUTICAL    NONSENSE.  221 

Before  we  dismiss  this  gentleman,  we  have  another  incident 
to  tell  our  readers,  just  by  the  way.  Off  the  banks  of  Newfound- 
land, which  we  know  by  the  misty  vapour  that  constantly  over- 
hangs them  like  a  white  pall,  we  had  a  dead  calm.  We  lay  like 
a  huge  bird  motionless  on  the  waters,  and  everybody  was  in 
arms  to  fish.  Some  sought  for  hooks,  others  for  lines,  and  a 
few  hunted  up  the  bate  in  the  shape  of  chunks  of  pale-looking 
pork.  Everybody  felt  piscatorial,  even  "  Young  Profile,"  for 
he  consented  to  leave  pursuing  Marie  to  indulge  "  on  his  own 
hook"  in  another  quarter.  After  considerable  ado,  he  purchased 
a  tackle  from  one  of  the  steerage-passengers,  and  prepared  to 
hook  the  finny  fellows  that  gambol  in  the  sea.  Such  a  time  as 
he  made  of  it  to  be  sure.  First,  he  was  so  alarmed  lest  a  drop 
of  salt  water  should  get  on  his  hands,  and  he  was  on  the  point, 
he  said,  of  hiring  one  of  the  sailors  to  pull  up  his  line  when  the 
dolphins  nibbled.  We  told  him  that  was  unpardonable,  and, 
after  considerable  expostulation,  he  made  up  his  mind  to  "  go 
into  things  about  right;"  tha'  is,  use  his  hands  like  other  white 
men,  and  not  be  as  particular  of  those  useful  appendages  to  the 
body  as  if  they  were  rose  leaves  or  the  wings  of  butterflies. 
Soon  lie  rid  himself  of  his  coat,  stripped  up  his  sleeves,  and 
throwing  out  his  line  for  deep-water  fishing,  placidly  awaited  the 
signal  from  the  bonetas,  skipjacks,  or  albicores — the  fish  of  these 
parts — just  as  they  should  honour  him  with  their  attachment. 
Seeing  him  so  comfortably  seated,  one  of  the  young  men  and 
ourself  could  not  resist  the  chance  of  having  a  joke.  He  had 
then  been  fishing  for  an  hour  and  a  half  without  the  slightest 
success,  and  of  course  felt  a  little  vexed  at  the  luck.  We  drew 
him  aside  from  his  line,  which  he  made  fast  to  the  taffrail  of 
the  vessel,  and  on  some  pretence  detained  him  in  the  cabin  for 
a  few  moments,  while  our  companion  drew  in  his  cord,  and,  stick- 
ing the  tail  of  a  huge  codfish  on  his  hook,  threw  it  back  again 
into  the  water.  When  he  got  back  to  his  line,  a  young  lady, 
who  was  in  the  secret,  and  who  was  fishing  just  beside  him,  told 


222  DASHES   OF    AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

him  that  she  was  sure  she  had  seen  his  cord  move  in  his  ab- 
sence. 

"  Do  you  think  I've  got  a  bite  at  last  ?"  said  he,  gaily,  as  he 
toyed  with  the  line.  "  It  feels  heavy,  and  resists  the  current. 
I  must  be  in  luck." 

We  all  drew  near,  and  hand  over  hand !  and  up  came  the 
cord,  dripping  like  a  drowned  serpent.  It  was  no  small  task  ; 
and  "  Profile,"  as  he  groaned  under  the  resistance  of  the  wet 
line,  appeared  willing  to  bet  there  was  a  prize — an  agreeable 
sur-u  prize" — at  t'other  end.  A  few  more  groans,  and  up  came 
the  hook,  the  codfish-tail  faithfully  dangling  on  it.  As  he  knew 
no  more  about  the  appearance  of  fish  than  a  hippopotamus  docs 
of  the  use  of  the  quadrant,  he  burst  out  in  ecstacies.  Every- 
body kept  a  straight  face,  and  looked  with  eager  eyes. 

"Bless  me!"  shouted  he,  "no  wonder  he  pulled  so  hard. 
See,  I've  got  nothing  but  his  tail !  He  is  partly  gone ;  but  half 
a  loaf  is  better  than  none  !"  And  his  pulling  the  line  so  hard 
as  to  sever  the  body  of'  a  i\>}\  from  the  tail  was  his  great  boast 
His  old  aunt  petted  him  like  a  child  for  the  exploit ;  and  both 
never  knew  any  better,  but  were  firmly  under  the  impression 
that  the  fish  broke  in  half  from  the  effect  of  his  pulling  so  hard. 

We  have  said  before  that  our  old  dowager  travelling  compa- 
nion was  annoyiugly  officious.  She  was,  indeed,  and  a  laugh- 
able illustration  of  her  ruling  propensity  happened  off  the 
"  Banks."  The  lean  man,  or  flesh-fancier — just  as  the  reader 
may  choose  to  call  him — had  been  industriously  engaged  in  fish- 
ing for  four  weary  hours,  without  the  slightest  success.  Wear- 
ing a  narrow-brimmed  hat,  his  hatchet  face  was  burned  as  red 
as  a  vitalized  "  cake"  of  vermilion ;  but  still  he  fished  on  with 
commendable  perseverance,  watching  his  line  with  admirable 
steadiness.  At  length  he  was  favoured,  and  caught  a  beautiful 
young  dolphin,  which  capered  about  the  deck,  and  finally  quieted 
itself  with  becoming  forbearance  to  die  a  cruel,  and  we  might 
say,  if  we  wished  to  make  a  pun,  in-"  deck"-orous  death.     The 


SCRAPS  OF  NAUTICAL  NONSENSE.  223 

lean  man  was  delighted,  and  immediately  turned  again  towards 
the  water  to  ascertain  whether  there  was  "  any  more  left  of  the 
same  sort,"  to  use  the  words  of  an  American  itinerant.     The 
fish  had  not  been  out  of  the  water  more  than  a  moment  or  so, 
before  along  bustled  the  dowager  to  see  what  was  going  on,  when 
her  sharp  old  optics  fell  upon  the  scaly  captive.     Stooping  down, 
she  picked  it  up,  and  patting  its  plump  sides  for  an  instant,  and 
caressing  its  bleeding  gills,  said,  "  Poor  little  thing!  it's  a  shame 
it  should  die  such  a  wicked  death.     I'll  return  it  to  its  native 
element."     And,  behold  !  she  threw  it  over  into  the  water,  and 
then  toddled  down  to  her  state-room  with  the  internal  convic- 
tion that  she  had  performed  a  high  act  of  Christian  charity. 
Nothing  was  said ;  and  presently,  the  angler  caught  another. 
He  had  fished  quite  six  hours  ;   and  his  pair  of  dolphins  would 
make  him  an  excellent  fry.     His  mouth  became  a  "  Niagara 
Falls"  at  the  idea.      Judge  of  his  surprise  and  mortification 
when  he  learned  the  fate  of  his  first  fish  !     He  almost  shed  tears. 
"To  think  he  should  have  sat  nearly  a  half  a  day  in  the  broiling 
sun,  and  then  the  result  of  all  his  patient  industry  to  be  igno- 
miniously  snatched  from  him  by  a  meddling  old  woman.     It 
was  provoking,  without  doubt.     As  a  consequence,  he  was  cut 
of  his  "fry"  by  getting  into  a  dreadful  "stew;"  and  dolphin 
No.  2  was  surreptitiously  '-hooked"  in  the  end  by  one  of  the 
urchins  of  the  steerage,  to  cut  up  for  bait.     Our  lean  friend 
never  again  attempted  to  fish  that  journey ;  and  we  verily  believe 
he  used  to  haunt  the  dowager  in  her  dreams,  for  she  related  at 
the  breakfast-table,  one  morning,  that  she  had  seen  in  her  shop 
a  man  with  a  dolphin's  head  standing  by  her  bedside  all  night, 
with  a  savage-looking  knife  in  his  hand,  which  lie  protested  he 
was  about  to  bury  to  the  hilt  in  her  matronly  old  heart.  When 
she  awoke,  and  found  it  was  all  "  the  baseless  fabric  of  a  vision," 
her  joy,  she  declared,  knew  no  bounds ;   for  she  felt  then  she 
was  still  a  happy  widow,  "  live  and  kicking,"  with  a  jointure  of 
£400  per  annum. 


224  dashes  of  American  iroion. 

We  were  five  days  tempest-tossed,  Such  a  time  then  among 
the  ladies,  and  the  Lesbian  nephew,  we  never  saw  before.  The 
dowager  was  frightened  out  of  her  wits ;  and  every  plunge  the 
vessel  made  would  excite  her  to  the  utterance  of  something 
intensely  pathetic.  Our  captain  was  a  hale  old  fellow,  bluff 
and  brave — good-natured  in  the  main,  but  at  times  austere — 
who  snapped  his  fingers  at  a  storm,  and  turned  up  his  nose  at  a 
hurricane.  Even  a  white  squall  would  not  move  him,  we  don't 
care  how  sudden  it  made  its  appearance;  and  besides  all  tins, 
he  had  somehow  or  the  other  fallen  into,  perhaps,  what  might 
be  called  a  very  brusque  habit  of  Baying  just  exactly  what  he 
thought.  The  second  day  of  the  storm  the  sea  ran  fearfully 
high,  and  a  strong  nor'-wester  seemed  to  impart  vitality  to 
every  object  in  the  cabins  and  state-rooms,  All  at  once,  tables 
took  it  into  their  "heads'1  to  perform  sundry  queer  antics;  and 
chairs,  trunks,  and  other  movables  behaved  very  disreputably 
indeed,  reeling  and  pitching  about  as  if  they  were  diametrically 
opposed  to  everything  in  the  temperance  way,  .and  had  made 
up  their  minds  to  have  a  jolly  Spree,  regardless  of  what  was 
right  or  proper.  What  heightened  the  effect  of  this  illusion 
was,  all  the  furniture  of  the  cabin  was  painted  blue;  and  there 
stood  in  the  middle  of  the  cabin  a  large  rocking-chair — a  sober, 
venerable-looking  specimen,  too,  which  was  tied  fast  to  the 
floor.  It  appeared  to  gaze  sturdily  on  the  scene  of  confusion, 
without  a  single  move,  seeming  a  very  "  Father  Matthew"  of 
furniture  among  the  dizzy  revellers. 

The  second  day  of  the  storm,  the  wind  increased  in  strength, 
and  the  waves  lashed  the  vessel  worse  than  ever  truant  urchin 
caught  it  from  '•  iron  dominie."  People  that  had  boasted  of  escap- 
ing the  sea-nausea  were  now  pouring  out  their  libations  to  Nep- 
ture  over  the  bulwarks,  and  making  any  quantity  of  wry  faces 
at  the  bitterness  of  their  bile.  It  was  raining  dreadfulhv;  and 
the  young  man,  whom  we  shall  ever  call  "  Profile,"  if  we  live  n 
thousand  years  and  never  turn  gray,  insisted  upon  it  that  he 


SCRAPS    OF   NAUTICAL    NONSENSE.  225 

would  feel  better  if  he  were  on  deck.  The  dowager  thought 
otherwise,  feeling  that,  if  he  went,  he  was  sure  to  be  washed 
overboard  :  but  no — go  he  would,  she  vainly  endeavouring  to 
detain  him  by  pulling  his  coat-tails,  and  protesting,  between  her 
gaspings,  that,  if  he  lost  his  life,  she  never  would  leave  him  a 
penny  of  her  property.  Muffled  up  in  a  large  travelling  chdle, 
tied  firmly  around  under  his  nose,  with  a  very  elegant  Floren- 
tine straw  hat  on,  he  staggered  up  to  the  deck  above,  where  he 
found  it  difficult  to  maintain  his  equilibrium.  The  wind  whis- 
tled through  the  lattice  of  rope  and  spar ;  and,  all  at  once,  the 
elegant  and  expensive  hat  that  adorned  the  head  of  the  aforesaid 
youth  was  whipped  from  its  lodgment,  and  the  next  minute 
tossed  a  white  speck  on  the  wild  waves — one  instant  just  seen, 
and  the  next  far,  far  down  a  vale  of  white  foam. 

"  Captain,  captain  !"  roared  the  fellow,  gazing  sorrowfully 
over  the  taffrail,  "  I've  lost  my  hat — a  beautiful  Florence  straw 
hat.     It  cost  me  forty  florins  in  Naples  !     Dear,  0  !  dear,  0  !" 

The  captain  just  at  the  moment  was  giving  orders  to  the  man 
at  the  helm,  and  did  not  distinctly  comprehend  the  lamenta- 
tion. 

'•  Captain,"  again  shouted  he,  "  I've  lost  my  hat  overboard  ! 
indeed,  indeed,  I  have  !     See,  there  it  goes  !" 

"  D — n  your  hat,  sir  !"  bluffly  replied  the  captain.  "  What 
of  it  ?  It's  gone,  and  that's  the  last  of  it — a  toy  for  the  fishes." 

"  Oh,  don't  say  that,  captain ;  for  aunt  will  get  frightfully 
nervous  if  I  lose  it.  Only  think — it  cost  forty  florins.  Do  man 
the  life-boat,  and  see  if  you  can't  recover  it !  do,  there's  a  dear, 
good  captain  !" 

The  idea  of  lowering  a  life-boat  from  her  tackles  in  a  tempest, 
to  save  a  straw  hat  from  a  watery — what  shall  we  say  ?  not 
grave,  certainly  ;  but  that  will  convey  the  idea — was  so  stu- 
pidly droll  to  the  captain's  pristine  mind,  that,  notwithstanding 
tlie  serious  aspect  of  the  weather,  he  broke  into  a  series  of  rough 
guttural  cacchinations,  which  were  only  ended  by  the  youth's 
suddenly  disappearing  from  the  quarter-deck,  in  consequence  of 


226  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 


' 


a  sharp  gust  having  unceremoniously  precipitated  him  side  by 
side  with  sundry  coils  of  stout  rope. 

Another  day,  when  it  was  raining  in  torrents,  and  the  wind 
still  fierce,  the  young  gentleman  diverted  himself  by  looking  at 
the  porpoises  skip  in  the  briny  hillocks  at  the  prow  ;  and  being 
absent  rather  long  from  his  aunt's  cap-strings,  the  old  lady  grew 
anxious,  and  determined  on  hunting  the  truant.  Arraying  her- 
self in  a  peach-coloured  silk  skirt  (silk,  on  shipboard  is  good), 
with  a  coiffure  of  rich  Pomona  green  lace,  she  ascended  to  the 
deck,  and  then  hoisted  an  umbrella  as  a  means  of  protection, 
which  was  no  sooner  spread  than  it  turned  inside  out,  with  an 
ease  and  grace  that  would  have  made  old  Neptune  crack  his 
sides,  if  he  had  been  anywhere  about,  and  seen  it.  The  best  of 
it  was  that,  notwithstanding  its  alteration  of  form,  she  con- 1 
tinued  to  hold  on  to  it  with  a  firm  grasp,  until  it  pulled  her  to 
the  side  of  the  vessel ;  and  then  over  it  went,  having  as  travel- 
ling companions  her  fine  lace  coiffure^  false  curls,  and  "  fixins," 
which,  dancing  about  in  the  stiff  air  at  a  great  rate,  finally 
settled  on  the  summit  of  a  large  mass  of  black  waters,  and  dis- 
appeared in  an  abyss  of  spray. 

As  we  have  intimated,  our  captain  was  not  over  and  above 
polished  in  his  manners,  although  a  fine-hearted  and  brave  man. 
The  second  or  third  day  out,  at  dinner — during  which  he  pre- 
sided as  grand  carver,  and  consequently  sat  at  the  head  of  the 
table,  he  inquired  of  the  dowager  what  he  should  send  her  in 
the  way  of  meat,  addressing  her  as  plain  Mrs.  Grace,  which  was 
her  name. 

"  Lady  Grace,  if  you  please,  captain,"  correctively  suggested 
her  nephew,  "  Profile." 

"  Lady  Blue-fire-and-blazes,  sir  !"  roared  the  captain.  "  I 
never  depart  from  ship  etiquette  at  any  risk.  Shall  I  help  you 
to  some  meat,  madam  ?" 

No  sooner  had  he  uttered  this  somewhat  uncivil  speech,  than 
my  Lady  Grace,  as  her  nephew  insisted  upon  having  it,  arose 


SCRAPS  OF  NAUTICAL  NONSENSE.  227 

from  the  table  in  a  high  tantrum,  and  retired  to  a  state-room. 
At  tea,  her  place  was  vacant.  The  captain  glanced  at  it  several 
times  ;  and  at  length  the  steward  brought  him  a  card,  on  which 
was  written : 

"  Lady  Grace  ivill  feel  favoured  if  Captain  ivill 

send  her  meals  to  her  room  the  remainder  of  the  voyage.'1'' 

He  read  it  aloud,  and  simply  turning  the  card  on  the  other 
side,  wrote  with  a  pencil  that  he  borrowed  from  his  right-hand 
neighbour : 

"  When  Lady  Grace  thinks  proper  to  come  to  the  table, 
there's  oceans  of  grub  at  her  service.  We  think  too  much  of 
her  society  to  be  deprived  of  it  in  this  ivay ;  although,  if  ill, 
we'll  give  her  anything  the  ship's  stores  afford." 

She  pleaded  indisposition  for  a  few  days,  and  had  her  meals 
in  her  room.  Finally,  as  time  wore  on,  she  mustered  cour- 
age to  once  more  appear  at  the  board,  which  she  did  with  any 
amount  of  well-gotten-up  hauteur  and  dignity.  Her  nephew 
pronounced  the  captain  "  a  nasty  man,"  "  an  unpolished  brute," 
and  various  other  as  enviable  cognominations ;  but  these  were 
all  thrown  away  upon  him,  for  he  was  as  hard  as  steel,  and  heeded 
the  wrath  of  the  youth  about  as  much,  possibly,  as  a  lion  would 
the  buzzing  of  a  tiny  but  respectable  house-fly.  We  fancy  the 
voyage  did  "  Mr.  Profile"  good  in  many  respects,  and  cured  him 
of  several  mental  diseases  that  he  did  not  dream  salt  air  would 
benefit. 


228  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 


THE  AMERICAN  FIREMEN. 


An  Englishman  accustomed  to  a  conflagration  once  in  ten 
years,  and  the  heavy-horse  drawn  engines  that  rattle  through 
London  streets  when  an  alarm  is  given,  has  no  just  notion  of 
the  extensive  character  of  the  fire  host  of  an  American  city. 
There  is  as  wide  a  difference  in  the  whole  system  and  manage- 
ment of  the  fire  department  as  can  well  be  conceived  ;  and  were 
not  the  aim  of  action  the  same,  the  extinguishment  of  the  fire\ 
a  paramount  likeness  would  scarce  exist.  Imprimis,  the  en- 
gines are  pulled  by  men  instead  of  horses;  and  the  machines 
themselves,  differing  somewhat  in  the  principle  of  operation,  are 
characterized  by  an  architectural  embellishment  of  surpassing 
beauty.  In  point  of  numbers,  too,  we  suppose  there  arc  mora 
engines  (by  which  we  also  mean  what  are  called  horse-carriages) 
in  the  single  city  of  Philadelphia  than  in  ten  of  the  most  im- 
portant cities  of  Great  Britain.  Each  engine  in  an  American 
city  has  a  regular  charter,  and  an  organized  number  of  members, 
who  hold  stated  meetings,  are  subjected  to  a  code  of  regulations  v 
and  rules,  and  governed  by  a  president  and  miner  officers,  ap- 
pointed by  vote. 

The  interest  felt  by  each  particular  company  for  its  "  machine," 
as  the  firemen  term  the  apparatus,  we  can  only  liken  to  the  zeal 
manifested  for  favourite  horses  in  England  on  a  Derby'  Day. 
— The  lower  order  of  citizens  become  so  attached  to  the 
engines  that  they  lounge  about  them  a  great  portion  of  their 
leisure  time  ;  and  out  of  this  affection  arises  a  clannish  spirit  of 
rivalry  that  frequently  evinces  itself  in  acts  much  at  variance 


THE    AMERICAN    FIREMEN.  229 

with  that  fraternal  feeling  of  concord  so  essential  to  the  har- 
mony of  society.      Each  apparatus  has  its  devoted  followers. 
Men  and  half-grown  youths  swear  by  the  speed  and  efficiency  of 
the  "  machine"  which  they  favour.    The  enthusiasm  amounts  to 
|  an  absolute  worship ;  and  we  do  not  exaggerate  when  we  say 
I  that  the  abstractive  affection  between  many  men  and  engines 
I  is   stronger    than    the   nearest  ties  of  human  relationship. — 
,  This  "  object  love"  arises  mainly  from  associations.     The  am- 
bition of  first  reaching  a  fire  seems  to  be  the  prevailing  idea, 
the  excitement  of  which  engenders  considerable  interest.     Of 
course,  the  engine  that  first  arrives  at  the  scene  of  a  catastrophe 
is  the  trumpeted  one  of  the  occasion,  and  the  members  receive 
all  due  honour  for  their  energy  and  promptness.     Each  engine- 
house  is  provided  with  a  comfortable  hall,  where  the  members 
frequently  congregate  for  the  purpose  of  discussing  questions 
concerning  their  duties ;  and  from  these  meetings  spring  a  fel- 
lowship and  concordance  of  sentiment,  the  influences  of  which 
could  be  scarce  else  than  conciliating. 

The  most  lamentable  feature  of  these  local-engine  organiza- 
tions is  the  jealous  spirit  of  rivalry  they  superinduce.  Many 
companies  are  pitted  against  each  other  from  a  mere  feeling  of 
envy,  which  often  develops  itself  in  a  bitter  quarrel  or  a  con- 
tested combat  when  the  opponents  meet.  These  fracas,  are  fre- 
quently carried  on  to  the  destruction  of  considerable  property, 
and  in  many  cases  attended  with  loss  of  life.  In  Philadelphia, 
where  the  engine  feuds  seem  to  be  more  common  than  other 
cities  of  the  States,  there  have  been  as  many  as  ten  deaths  re- 
sulting from  the  quarrels  of  firemen  in  one  year. 

It  is  not  the  firemen  alone  that  catch  the  infection  of  discord ; 
youths  and  lads  but  just  out  of  their  swaddling-clothes  enter 
into  the  feeling,  which  is  regulated  by  the  neighbourhood  in 
which  they  reside ;  the  nearest  engine  to  their  home  being  the 
object  of  their  advocacy.  These  youngsters,  with  often  older 
ones  at  their  head,  form  into  bands  and  bodies,  and  select  as 


230  DASHES    OF   AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

their  head-quarters  a  particular  corner  or  vacant  lot,  as  near  the 
engine-house  as  possible,  where  they  loiter  night  and  day  as  cir- 
cumstances admit  of  their  presence.  Of  course,  this  is  not  the 
characteristic  of  the  youth  of  all  society,  these  bands  being  com- 
posed of  what  are  conventionally  termed  "  bad  boys,"  princi- 
pally the  children  of  poor  and  dissolute  people  in  the  suburban 
districts  of  the  city.  In  the  populated  bounds  of  the  metropo- 
lis proper  these  marks  of  youthful  demonstration  become  less 
evident,  and  with  many  of  the  respectable  companies  (and  there 
is  even  an  aristocracy  here)  there  is  no  visible  surrounding  con- 
tention. 

In  the  lower  districts  of  Philadelphia  the  engine  affrays  some- 
times become  a  matter  of  such  serious  consequence  that  the 
authorities  have  to  order  out  an  extra  police  to  quell  the  out- 
breaks. Fights,  disputes,  and  broils  of  the  most  violent  and 
ferocious  character  take  place,  during  which  the  inhabitants  are 
thrown  into  a  state  of  desperate  confusion,  which  is  only  quieted 
by  the  conduct  of  the  belligerents.  On  these  occasions  not  only 
do  men  participate,  but  the  boy -gangs  really  do  the  most  mis- 
chief. The  names  they  select  for  themselves  strangely  suggest 
the  idle,  reckless  character  of  the  association.  One  party  will 
term  themselves  the  H  Killers,''  another  the  '•  Bouncers,"  a  third 
"Black  Snakes,'1  a  fourth  "lied  Blooders;"  and,  by  the  names 
cut  on  various  fences  we  have  noticed,  the  "  Snappers,"  "  Jump- 
ers,'1 «  Sharks,"  "  Gayheads,"  and  "  Death-fetchers."  It  may  be, 
as  an  example,  that  the  "  Killers,"  "  Sharks,"  and  "  Bouncers" 
fraternize ;  if  so,  an  understanding  extends  among  the  members 
of  such ;  but  should  any  misunderstanding  divide  them,  woe  to 
any  of  one  gang  that  fall  ungarded  into  the  clutches  of  the  other. 
These  divisions  and  unions  constantly  occur.  The  Sabbath-day 
is  not  unfrequently  chosen  as  the  period  for  pitched  battles 
between  various  of-  the  bands,  in  which  stones,  clubs,  missiles, 
and  pistols  are  introduced  without  reserve.  The  reader  will 
understand  that  these  mobsmen  are  only  outside  hangers-on  to 


THE    AMERICAN    FIREMEN.  231 

the  interests  of  the  engines  ;  but  the  original  motive  of  quarrel 
is  primarily  based  on  a  regard  displayed  for  particular  compa- 
nies. 

But  the  firemen,  with  all  of  these  drawbacks  on  their  standing 
as  a  body,  merit  much  consideration  for  the  zealous  disinterest- 
edness with  which  they  rush  into  danger  for  the  purpose  of  pre- 
serving property.  Fires  being  numerous,  the  engines  are  almost 
in  constant  service,  and  the  members  in  turn  work  diligently  for 
many  hours  without  the  slightest  idea  of  remuneration,  endan- 
gering their  health  and  prostrating  their  energies  by  an  order 
of  labour  the  most  laborious.  A  more  patient,  determined,  and 
generous  class  of  men  cannot  be  collected  from  the  civil  ranks  ; 
and,  did  not  the  division  of  feeling  in  relation  to  other  compa- 
nies drive  them  into  the  commission  of  deeds  of  violence,  they 
would  occupy  a  high  position  socially  and  morally. 

An  alarm  of  fire  is  the  signal  of  vast  commotion  in  an  Ameri- 
can city.     The  loud  bells  of  the  various  engine-houses  toll  with . 
i  frantic  clamour  the  noted  strokes,  according  to  the  direction  of 
!  the  alarm,  which  afford  the  firemen  a  clue  to  action.     Men  and 
boys  rush  hither  and  thither  pell-mell,  overwhelmed  with  expect- 
ancy, doubt,  and  excitement.     Some  rush  immediately  to  the 
engine-houses,  where,  assuming  fire-hats,  capes,  and  belts,  com- 
mand the  rope  and  dash  forward  at  once ;  others,  having  only 
I  time  to  divest  themselves  of  their  coats,  without  assuming  the 
I  fire  garb,  start  off  in  their  shirt  sleeves.     Some  join  the  engine 
i  in  the  streets,  and  though  the  rope  may  have  only  five  struggling 
:  members  at  starting,  the  line  is  soon  formed  on  the  way.     The 
apparatus  being  numerous,  the  clatter  and  confusion  is  beyond 
expression.      In   the    neighbourhood   of   the   fire,    if  it   rage 
fiercely,  are  thousands  of  human  beings,  each  with  an  emotion 
glowing  on  his  countenance.     The  shrieks  and  calls  of  the  fire- 
men through  their  horns,  the  wail  of  frightened  women,  and  tho 
wild  crackling  of  the  red  flames,  produce  an  effect  that  only  a 
scene  of  desolation  can  combine.     The  streets  are  flooded  with 


232  dashes  of  American  humor. 

water  from  the  plugs  and  leaky  hose  ;  the  heavy  tramp  of  men, 
the  bickering  whoop  of  the  boys,  and  the  crash  of  fallen  tim- 
bers, all — all  make  up  a  spectacle  as  stirriug  as  it  is  fearful. 

But  by  far  the  most  pleasing  feature  in  the  career  of  the  fire 
department  of  a  great  Atlantic  city  is  their  Triennial  Parade, 
that  is  celebrated  with  so  much  pomp  and  unanimity.  On  this 
day  all  feuds  are  forgotten;  the  hatchet  is  buried,  and  the  olive- 
branch  of  peace  is  twined  gracefully  in  the  button-hole  of  every 
fireman.  The  parade  is  a  gorgeous  display,  and  it  is  got  up 
regardless  of  labour,  cost,  or  sacrifice.  The  engines,  which  are 
beautiful  specimens  of  handicraft,  and  in  many  cases  very  expen- 
sive, are  at  this  period  repainted,  garnished,  gilded,  dressed  with 
flowers,  and  ornamented  with  brilliant  devices.  The  parade  is 
formed  of  all  of  the  engines  thus  decorated,  some  of  which  are 
dragged  by  horses  and  others  by  the  members,  dressed  in  ele- 
gant equipments.  In  many  of  the  streets  along  which  the  cor- 
tege passes  are  constructed  triumphal  arches  covered  with  foliage, 
flags,  and  flowers.  The  glorious  stars  and  stripes  flutter  in  the 
breeze  at  almost  every  turn,  and  the  windows  are  crowded  with 
ladies  waving  handkerchiefs  or  tossing  roses  to  the  gallant  fire- 
men as  they  pass.  Every  brick  seems  to  have  given  birth  to  a 
pennon ;  and  the  slender  tree-tops  gaily  whirling  in  the  air-cur- 
rents seem  merrily  to  shower  sunshine  and  flowers  upon  the 
bright  pageant. 

Here  is  an  available  location ;  we  will  watch  the  procession 
counter-marching  from  this  expansive  bay-window.  We  glance 
up  and  down  the  street,  and  the  couji-tVocil  suggests  a  vast  bed 
of  variegated  tulips  and  silver  lilies,  disturbed  by  some  invisible 
spirit  of  action;  nothing  but  banners,  flags,  streamers,  bright 
costume,  and  the  most  vivid  objects  of  fanciful  invention  meet 
the  view.  The  column  advances,  and  brilliant  beyond  descrip- 
tion it  is. 

First  comes  the  chief  marshal,  plainly  but  elegantly  dressed, 
mounted  on  a  spirited  jet  black  charger,  and  accompanied  by 


THE   AMERICAN   FIREMEN.  233 

twelve  special  aids  similarly  mounted,  with  rosettes  of  blue  rib- 
bon gracefully  adjusted  on  their  lappels. 

Now  we  have  prodigious  alarm  bells,  supported  by  coloured 
frameworks  of  wood,  placed  on  wheels,  and  drawn  by  horses 
richly  caparisoned.  Ringers  are  in  attendance,  and  a  rude  paean 
is  sounded  on  the  "  bosom  of  the  palpitating  air."  Oh !  these 
bells,  bells,  bells,  as  poor  Poe  wrote  it — 

"  And  his  merry  bosom  swells  with  the  paean  of  the  bells, 

Keeping  time,  time,  time,  in  a  sort  of  Runic  rhyme. 
#  #  #  # 

To  the  throbbing  of  the  bells— the  sobbing  of  the  bells, 
As  he  knells,  knells,  knells !" 

A  novel  feature  next  approaches.  It  is  a  cavalcade  of  fire- 
men, composed  of  a  representative  from  each  of  the  various 
companies  participating  in  the  festivities  of  the  day.  The  riders 
are  four  abreast,  and  the  elegance  and  diversity  of  their  cos- 
tumes form  quite  a  gorgeous  and  pleasing  spectacle.  The  squad- 
ron has  assumed  the  form  of  a  deep,  hollow  square,  reminding 
one  of  the  angles  of  an  antiquated  palace  court-yard. 

A  train  of  carriages,  containing  a  number  of  well-dressed,  re- 
spectable-men, are  nest  in  order.  They  are  officers  and  com- 
mittee-men of  various  fire  associations. 

And  now  begins  the  picturesque  portion  of  the  panorama.  A 
brass-band,  with  an  overplus  of  bassoons,  step  gaily  along,  vent- 
ing a  gush  of  distracted  melody  at  every  stride.  With  the 
exception  of  the  very  corpulent  man  with  the  cornet,  the  toute 
ensemble  is  musicianly. 

Four  sleek,  black  horses,  in  sombre  trappings,  with  plumes 
coqucttishly  waving  at  their  heads,  are  attached  to  a  large  mag- 
nificent engine,  the  gallery  of  which  is  surmounted  by  a  large 
spread-eagle.  A  silken  canopy  is  also  formed  over  the  whole, 
at  the  sides  of  which  hang  garlands  of  drooping  white  roses. 
Accompanying  this  engine,  are  at  least  one  hundred  and  fifty 
members  plainly  equipped. 

This  is  followed  by  what  is  termed  a  "  hose-carriage,"  a  light 


234  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

fairy-like  machine,  that  would  seem  at  a  glance  more  fitted  for 
the  gambollings  of  Puck  and  his  elfin  cotemporaries  than  the 
visitant  of  the  disastrous  scene  of  a  conflagration.  The  car- 
riage is  painted  black  and  striped  with  gold,  while  the  frontispieco 
is  ornamented  with  a  well-executed  coat-of-arms  of  the  city. 
The  members  arc  attired  in  dark  trowsers,  gray  coats  with  largo 
metal  buttons,  black  leathern  capes,  and  hats,  with  gold  letters 
forming  the  name  of  the  company. 

A  "  Hook  and  Ladder  "  company  are  next  in  the  line.  They 
muster  numerously  and  display  a  beautiful  banner  trimmed  with 
cherry  and  blue  satin  and  silver  stars.  On  one  side  is  an  in- 
scription showing  it  to  be  the  gift  of  the  ladies. 

Another  engine  follows,  the  body  of  which  is  black,  striped 
with  bronze  and  silver.  The  galleries  and  upper  works  are 
completely  covered  with  the  most  magnificent  bouquets  and  gar- 
lands that  the  taste  of  Flora  could  devise.  The  panels  on  the 
ends  of  the  body  of  the  engine,  and  those  of  the  gallery,  are 
ornamented  with  niches,  in  which  arc  placed  dazzlingly  brilliant 
representations  of  the  Genius  of  "  Liberty,"  which  is  the  name 
of  the  apparatus. 

To  proceed  in  detail  in  this  manner  would,  perhaps,  weary 
the  reader ;  so  we  will  group  the  incidental  features  for  the  sake 
of  brevity. 

As  the  procession  advances  it  brightens  in  aspect.  Company 
after  company  succeed  each  other,  attired  in  every  conceivable 
variety  of  fanciful  fire  equipment.  Black  and  gold,  now  blue 
and  silver,  and  dotting  the  line,  a  relief  to  the  glitter,  is  found 
in  a  quiet,  unpretentious  drab,  a  subdued  claret,  or  staid,  sober, 
old  gray.  Many  of  the  horses  attached  to  the  larger  engines  are 
led  by  African  grooms  richly  dressed  as  Turks,  the  folds  of 
whose  turbans  AH  Pacha  might  safely  admire  in  the  very  depths 
of  Pera.  Tribes  of  Indians  in  Wampum,  and  feathers,  and  bead- 
embroidered  feet,  lend  their  picturesque  assistance  in  complet- 
ing the  grotesquenesss  of  the  celebration. 


THE    AMERICAN    FIREMEN. 


These  whoop  and  dash  along  much  to  the  fascinating  horror 
of  the  romantic  little  boys  who  congregate  near  them  in  very 
wonderment,  and  march  by  their  side  the  whole  of  the  route, 
jnst  for  the  purpose  to  hear  them  whoop  savagely.  It  will  read- 
ily be  inferred  that  these  Indians  are  not  the  Simon  Pure 
aborigines,  but  ordinary  white  men,  costumed  to  order  by  some 
respectable  theatrical  and  bal  masque  dispenser  of  togas  and 
terror,  who  can  get  one  up  for  a  few  shillings  to  resemble  a  great 
Sachem  or  a  Sicilian  peasant  at  ten  minutes'  notice. 

One  or  two  of  the  companies  may  have  a  dozen  or  so  placid, 
sedate,  queer4ooking  Quakers  in  white  wigs  and  broad-brimmed 
thapeaus.  This  character  instalment  generally  affords  the  fast 
men  among  the  spectators  an  opening  for  a  volley  of  badinage, 
which  is  given  and  received,  however,  in  the  best  humor.  Here 
and  there  may  also  be  seen  a  group  of  jolly  sailors  with  any 
quantity  of  pigtail  and  nonchalance. 

The  banners  amount  to  a  multitude.  Some  of  them  are  sur- 
passingly beautiful,  composed  of  satin — blue,  white,  green,  ma- 
roon, or  pink,  as  the  case  may  be,  trimmed  with  gold  and  silver 
bullion,  and  bearing  graceful  devices  in  poetry  and  mythology. 
On  many  are  exquisite  paintings  by  the  best  artistes,  represent- 
ing scenes  of  history,  antiquity,  and  art ;  or  medallion  heads  of 
the  great  men  that  America  has  produced  in  her  young  career — 
Washington,  Franklin,  Patrick  Henry,  Jefferson,  Adams,  Clay, 
and  others  of  similar  statesmanship  position.  The  appearance 
of  this  long  line  of  banners  from  a  "high  point  of  view  is  extra- 
ordinarily imposing,  suggestinga  huge,  richly-tinted  ribbon,  shift- 
ing with  capricious  motion  in  the  bright  sunlight. 

The  variety  of  the  engines,  the  modes  of  decoration,  and  the 
elegance  of  the  designs,  afford  a  world  of  interest.  The  more 
graceful  hose-carriages,  with  their  rich  mountings  and  delightful 
frontispieces,  also  claim  a  large  share  of  attention.  Some  of  the 
latter  are  painted  in  the  most  graceful  colors  beautifully  blushed, 
and  adorned  with  arabesque  border  etchings.     The  panels  in 


236  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HITMOR. 

many  cases  are  embellished  with  pictures  chosen  with  pure 
artistic  taste ;  while  the  frontispieces,  swelling  proudly  forward 
like  the — but  we  wont  make  the  simile,  for  fear  of  displeasing 
the  ladies — present  specimens  of  the  painter's  delightful  art, 
which  would  grace  a  niche  of  the  Louvre.  Mythological  sub- 
jects exceed,  with  once  in  a  while  an  incident  of  historical  im- 
portance. Jupiter,  Mercury,  Pluto,  Venus,  Europa,  Psyche, 
and  a  lot  of  people  of  that  class,  are  brought  forward  pictorially 
with  the  most  unexceptionable  taste. 

It  is  not  only  the  elegance  of  the  apparatus — the  cleanliness 
and  polish  of  every  portion  of  which  is  a  distinguishing  feature — 
that  we  have  to  take  captive  our  admiration;  flowers  of  gorgeous 
hues,  twined  by  thousands  of  fair  fingers,  are  suspended  from 
every  point  of  the  engines;  wreaths  and  coronals  the  most  fan* 
tastique — bouquets  the  brightest  and  sweetest — devices,  the  re- 
sult of  refined  ingenuity,  are  placed  where  taste  has  pointed  her 
u  slender  reed."  Every  bush  and  flower-garden  has  been  ran- 
sacked to  supply  gifts  for  the  occasion ;  not  a  rose  is  left  bloom- 
ing, and  the  lilies  have  been  wantonly  torn  from  their  "  parent 
stems"  to  deck  the  procession.  The  city  seems  offering  up  in- 
cense the  sweetest  that  flowers  can  yield,  and  the  sun  goes  down 
on  as  bright  and  brilliant  a  carnival  as  the  United  States  num- 
bers among  her  festivities. 


237 


JONATHAN  BEHIND  THE  SCENES. 


Actors  are  famous  jokers,  verbal  and  practical.  There  is 
the  low-comedy  man  of  your  provincial  establishment,  for  ex- 
ample, the  delight  of  the  children  and  the  gay  companion  of  the 
men — -convulsing  by  his  grimaces,  and  producing  any  quantities 
of  mirth  by  his  odd  capers  and  ancient  green-room  jests.  There 
is  your  "  heavy  father"  and  "  first  old  man,"  with  a  burly  cane, 
telling  a  story  with  an  agony  of  attitudes.  There  is  your 
dancer  and  Harlequin,  practising  an  absurd  pirouette  by  way 
of  burlesque;  and  standing  at  the  stage-door  with  a  cut-away 
coat,  smart  scarf,  though  somewhat  the  worse  for  wear,  yet 
glossy  from  a  recent  iron,  is  the  "  light  comedian" — the  Rover, 
the  Dick  Dashall,  and  Young  Rapid  of  the  playhouse.  He  is 
reciting  a  snatch  of  Massinger,  and  swearing  it  reminds  him  of 
Shakspeare.     Then  he  introduces  a  new  reading  of  the  line — 

"  Honest,  my  lord  ?" 

by  pausing  deliberately  after  the  first  word,  and  dwelling  sig- 
nificantly on  my — 

Honest)  my  lord! 

at  which  the  surrounding  histrions  leer  and  gradually  drop  in 
through  the  door  to  look  after  rehearsal. 

And  actors  seem  to  tell  a  joke  with  more  zest  than  most 
other  people.  They  enter  into  the  spirit  of  it  with  deliberate 
self-possession,  throw  in  the  varied  tones  required  to  enamel  it, 
dilate  their  eyes  and  contract  the  brows  if  the  story  demands  it, 
and  in  fact  act  the  part  off  the  stage  with  an  agreeable  power. 
Your  would-be  funny  man  is  a  nuisance;  and  an  actor's  appre- 


238  DASHES   OF    AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

ciation  of  the  shades  of  humour  seems  to  strengthen  his  judg- 
ment and  regulate  his  manner  in  repeating  a  jest. 

The  "  first  old  man"  is  sure  to  have  a  store  of  anecdotes  at 
his  finger's  end  about  other  "  old  men  "  that  have  gone  before 
him,  and  when  he  refers  to  them  he  puffs  out  his  cheeks  and 
twists  his  mouth  as  they  were  supposed  to  have  clone.  The 
low  comedian  has  a  number  of  eccentric  stories  to  tell  of  Listen, 
Reeves,  ct  id  o?n?ic,  and  imitates  with  tolerable  accuracy  the 
tone  of  voice  of  Buckstone,  Keelcy,  Owens,  and  others  in  his 
"  line  of  business."  The  light  comedian  experiences  a  peculiar 
gusto  in  talking  of  departed  Dashalls  and  defunct  Benedicts. 
He  remembers  how  so-and-so  was  playing  Borneo  on  one  occa- 
sion, and  Juliet  jumped,  in  the  intensity  of  her  feelings,  from 
the  balcony  into  his  arms.  He  has  heard  his  father  say  that 
Elliston's  Charles  Surface  was  a  miracle  of  elegance ;  and  he 
has  a  personal  cognizance  of  Charles  Mathews  being  able  to  act 
the  gentleman.  The  clown  is  pregnant  with  the  capers  of 
Grimaldi  and  Ferrantini ;  and  the  walking  gentleman  of  small 
salary  has  numberless  cases  to  tell  of  when  he  "  threw  up  parts" 
that  were  far  beneath  his  talents. 

The  "  leading  man"  is  prolific  in  stories  of  his  quarrels  with 
various  managers — of  how  this  one  wanted  him  to  do  De 
Mauprat  instead  of  Bichlicu,  Pythias  instead  of  Damon,  Julius 
Caesar  instead  of  Brutus,  Iago  instead  of  Othello,  for  which 
latter  part  he  has  an  hallucination  he  was  expressly  created. 
If  he  had  come  into  the  world  with  a  label  dangling  at  his  toe, 
on  which  was  written  "made  to  order  for  Othello,"  he  could 
not  be  more  sanguine  in  his  belief.  He  also  tells  anecdotes  of 
his  experience  when  overstocked  managers  desired  to  break 
their  engagements  because  he  did  not  draw — how  he  held  them 
to  their  bond,  and  fretted  through  a  tragedy  every  evening. 
All  of  these  things  the  '•  leading  man"  remembers,  beside  com- 
pliments that  different  stars — the  Keans,  Booths,  Andersons, 
Phelps,  Pitts  of  the  trade — have  bestowed  on  him  when  he 
"  did"  the  seco?ids  at  their  last  engagement. 


JONATHAN  BEHIND  THE  SCENES.  239 

The  man  that  enacts  the  villains  conies  in  for  his  share  of 
melo-dramatic  vaunt.  He  tells  a  story  of  having  played  Glen- 
alvon  one  night  so  naturally  that  the  audience  hissed  him. 
Then  the  low  comedian,  who  is  standing  by,  wants  to  know 
whether  it  was  the  fidelity  of  the  impersonation  or  his  bad  act- 
ing that  commanded  the  hisses  ;  after  which  inquiry  he  winks  his 
right  eye  waggishly  at  a  young  lady  who  is  practising  coups  in 
book-muslin  and  tights,  which  causes  "  little  Sis,"  as  she  is 
termed,  to  turn  her  head  and  fairly  go  into  convulsions. 

But  we  must  not  keep  the  stage  of  our  sketch  waiting  too 
long,  or  our  audience  may  grow  dissatisfied  and  manifest  their 
disapprobation.  We  started  by  saying  that  actors  were  famous 
jokers,  and  so  they  are,  in  a  practical  sense,  when  a  pretentious 
or  verdant  subject  presents  himself  for  honors. 

Some  time  ago  an  ignorant,  long-legged  Yankee,  with  a  coun- 
tenance that  looked  as  if  it  had  been  bunglingly  chiselled  out 
of  underdone  pie-crust,  presented  himself  at  the  stage  door  of 
one  of  the  New-York  theatres,  and  desired  in  a  two-keyed  voice 
to  see  the  manager.  He  was  conducted  to  a  private  apartment, 
where  he  was  soon  waited  on. 

"  Do  you  wish  to  see  me  ?"  said  the  manager. 

"  Aair  yeou  the  owner  of  this  show  ?" 

"  Show,  sir,  what  do  you  mean  by  show?''' — with  a  mouthful 
of  italics. 

u  Show !  I  mean  the  play-actin'  biz'nas,"  placidly  replied 
Mr.  Yank,  with  an  expression  that  ancient  putty  might  be  in- 
duced to  assume,  with  considerable  working. 

"  Well,  sir,  what's  your  business  ?" 

"  Why,  they  all  a-been  tellin'  me  up  in  Casco  I've  got  a  heap 
of  talent  for  takin'  off  people,  and  I  want  to  see  if  you  can't 
give  me  a  chance." 

The  manager  had  a  bit  of  fun  in  his  nature,  and  thought  ho 
would  humor  the  applicant.     He  remarked — 

"Act !  yes,  yes,  I  see — you  want  to  play  characters  for  a 


240  DASHES   OF    AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

night  or  two.     Good  idea !     You've  got  a  brilliant  face  for  the 


"  So  everybody  tells  me,  and  that's  why  I  want  to  try  my 
hand  at  it.     They  say  lookin'  a  part's  half  the  fight." 

"  0,  yes,  quite,  if  not  seven-eighths.  What  did  you  think 
of  '  opening  in'  ?"  interrogated  Crummies. 

"  In  a  tke-a-tre  if  I  could,"  said  the  Down  Easter.  "  Some 
wuz  advisin'  me  to  try  a  Thespy  Ann  S'ciety ;  but  I  can't  get 
any  signs  up  around  town  for  sich  things,  and  so  I  think  I'll 
try  a  the-a-tre  if  it's  cheap." 

This  last  word  was  the  entamure  of  a  new  idea,  at  which  the 
manager  caught  with  wonderful  avidity.  His  exchequer  was 
not  particularly  overloaded  (the  last  spectacle  being  so  dull, 
nobody  could  sit  through  it),  and  this  might  be  some  wander- 
ing good  fortune  in  the  shape  of  a  stage-struck  rustic  Godsend, 
with  a  barren  noddle  and  a  full  purse.  The  manager  took  the 
idea  in  an  instant. 

"  Well,  I  can  only  say,  my  good  fellow,"  observed  the  mana- 
ger affectedly,  "  if  you  want  to  play,  you  can  have  me  as  your 
manager  for  a  few  nights  very  cheap,  and  choose  your  own 
parts." 

"  Exactly  so." 

"  Do  you  propose  Shaksperian  characters  ?" 
u  No,  I  wuz  a-thinkin'  Trakedy  characters  would  suit  me 
best,"  replied  the  Yankee. 

"Ah !  I  comprehend.  Are  you  familiar  with  the  principal 
tragic  parts  ?" 

"  Not  much,  but  I've  hearn  great  talk  of  'em."' 
"  Do  you  know,  for  example,  William  Tell  at  all  ?" 
"William  Tellitall?"  repeated  Down  East,  stretching  his 
long  neck  till  it  seemed  to  curve  like  a  swan's.     "  No,  I  don't 
know  him,  but  I  know  Bill  Tellabout  well  enough,  and  a  hearty 
chap  he  is,  with  a  knife  and  fork  in  his  paws." 

"  You  don't  comprehend,"  emendated  the  manager,  with  a 


JONATHAN  BEHIND  THE  SCENES.  241 

smothered  chuckle.     "  I  mean  William  T-E-L-L— Tell,  the 
Swiss  patriot." 

"  0,  now  I  take  you.  You  mean  the  feller  that  was  sich  a 
tearin'  good  shot,  and  knocked  a  cabbage  off  the  head  of  his 
brother  or  his  son — or  one  of  his  relations — I  forget  now  which 
it  was." 

"  That's  the  man,"  concurred  the  other ;  "  only  the  cabbage 
was  an  apple,  and  it  was  his  son,  not  his  brother." 

"  Dear  me,  is  that  a  fact  ?  It's  a  wunder  he  didn't  knock 
the  child's  head  off.  I  shouldn't  like  to  play  that ;  for  though 
I'm  a  saasy  good  shot,  I  might  miss  the  mark  and  git  into 
trouble." 

"  Very  true,  I  confess  that  never  struck  me,  with  all  my  ex- 
perience.    You've  wonderful  forethought." 

"  "Well,  it's  better  to  think  of  these  things  fust  as  last,  isn't 
it?" 

"Decidedly." 

"  Wall,  now,  about  the  price  ?  I  think  I  wouldn't  care 
abeout  actin'  more  than  one  night." 

The  stage-manager  secretly  concurred  in  the  correctness  of 
the  decision,  but  of  course  remained  silent. 

"What  do  you  feel   you   can   give?     Remember  I'll  find 
dresses,  scenery,  lights,  and  all  the  various  things  required." 
"  Is  your  dresses  showy  and  nice  lookin'  ?" 
"  Amazingly  so." 

"  I  want  to  wear  somethin'  startlin'-*-spangles  is  my  sort, 
and  acres  of  tins  ill." 

"  Precisely.  We'll  rig  you  out  till  you  look  as  if  you'd 
been  hall-keeper  to  a  fairy  grotto." 

The  Down  Easter's  imagination  at  this  moment  got  the  bet- 
ter of  him,  and  jumping  up,  he  roared — 

"  Crimini,  wouldn't  I  like  Lid  Stebbins  to  see  me.  I  guess 
she'd  say  I'm  <  one  of  'em.'  " 

"  About  the  terms  then,"  said  the  manager,  taking  advantage 


242  dashes  of  American  humor. 

of  his  candidate's  rapture,  and  returning  to  the  great  point  of 
the  matter.     "  Can't  we  close  ?" 

"  What,  the  the-a-tre  ?" 

"  No,  no,  the  agreement.  To  be  plain,  sir,  can  you  afford  to 
give  me  fifty  dollars  for  one  night's  performance,  and  all  you 
draw  over  four  hundred  dollars  111  return  you.'1 

This  was  a  safe  proposal,  when  it  is  known  the  theatre  only 
held,  when  packed,  three  hundred  and  seventy-five  dollars. 

"  Fifty  dollars  !"  mused  the  histrionic  rustic.  "  That's  ahead 
of  my  pile  considerable.  Can't  go  that,  but  I'll  tell  you  what 
I'll  do.  I'll  give  you  three  dollars  and  a  half  if  you'll  dress  me 
up  in  purty  things,  and  let  me  speak  '  The  House  that  Jack 
built'  between  the  pieces." 

The  manager,  with  the  prospect  of  a  prize  from  the  infatuated 
booby,  grew  suddenly  angry  at  this  proposition,  and  was  on  the 
eve  of  turning  him,  sans  ccre?no?iie,  out  of  the  theatre.  But  a 
gleam  of  fun  shooting  across  his  mind,  softened  his  rage  in  a 
moment.  Without  replying  to  the  condition,  he  rang  a  bell, 
which  had  the  effect  of  summoning  the  presence  of  a  dingy  lad, 
known  as  the  "  call  boy." 

u  What's  rehearsiii 

"  The  second  act  of «  The  Bridal,'  "  replied  the  boy. 

"  Is  <  The  Waterman'  over  ':"' 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Has  Mr.  Gleely  gone  ?" 

"  I'll  see,  sir." 

11  If  he's  not,  send  him  to  me." 

The  boy  ran  off,  and  immediately  instituted  a  dim  but  indus- 
trious search  among  the  green  rooms,  through  the  coulisses,  be- 
hind shaded  cut-pieces,  bits  of  castles,  halves  of  goblin  caverns, 
and  at  length  discovered  Mr.  Gleely  leaning  against  a  "  pair  of 
flats"  in  a  dark  corner,  talking  droll  rubbish  to  a  young  woman 
in  mouse-coloured  gaiters,  with  cherry-coloured  ribbon  on  a  new 
straw  bonnet. 


JONATHAN  BEHIND  THE  SCENES.  243 

The  boy  delivered  his  message,  and  Mr.  Gleely,  who  was  the 
low  comedian  of  the  theatre,  making  a  couple  of  comic  excuses 
to  the  young  lady  in  the  mouse-coloured  gaiters,  in  order,  of 
course,  to  make  the  young  lady  in  the  mouse-coloured  gaiters 
laugh,  proceeded  to  the  manager's  room. 
"  Ah !  Mr.  Gleely,  I'm  glad  you've  come." 
Mr.  Gleely  bowed  deferentially,  being  ignorant  of  his  mana- 
ger's desire. 

"  Permit  me,"  continued  the  manager,  winking  aside  to  the 
comedian,  which  he  "  took"  in  a  moment.  a  Permit  me  to  in- 
troduce you  to  Mr.  Garrick  Talmarina  Keanibus,  our  grand  star." 
a  Powerful  bleaged  to  you,  sir,"  said  the  Yankee,  rising  and 
offering  his  gaunt  digits  to  Mr.  Gleely.  "  I'm  much  obleeged 
to  know  you." 

"  This  gentleman,"  continued  the  manager,  with  a  mock  gra- 
vity, accompanied  by  various  sly  winks,  i:  is  desirous  of  coming 
out  as  an  actor,  and  knowing  your  burning  desire  to  bring  for- 
ward modest  merit,  I  thought  I  could  not  do  him  a  better  ser- 
vice than  to  turn  him  over  to  your  fostering  care." 

"  I  fully  comprehend,"  replied  the  comedian,  in  an  assumed 
deep  dramatic  tone ;  "  and  it  will  afford  me  continents  of  delight 
and  globes  of  satisfaction  to  be  the  instrument  of  his  progres- 
sive— " 

"  I  swar  to  man  you  are  pesky  kind,"  interrupted  the  candi- 
date for  laurels.     "  Will  you  go  and  take  a  drink  ?" 

"  Thank  you,  that's  something  our  profession  never  do,"  re- 
plied the  comedian  ;  "  but  if  you'll  walk  back  on  the  stage,  I 
shall  feel  pleasure  in  showing  you  the  easiest  method  of  becom- 
ing an  actor." 

"  I  hope  you'll  even  put  yourself  to  some  trouble  in  showing 
him  the  road  to  fame,"  remarked  the  manager,  with  a  meaning 
glance  at  the  floor." 

"  Decidedly !  I'd  go  as  far  as  to  get  in  a  perspiration  in 
teaching  him,"  retorted  the  comedian. 


244  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

The  rustic  was  so  overcome  with  these  supposed  complimen- 
tary intentions,  that  his  inflexible  face  seemed  even  more  gro- 
tesquely severe  beneath  them. 

The  comedian  and  the  manager  evidently  understood  each 
other,  and  mutually  enjoyed  the  perspective  waggery. 

"  Have  the  goodness  to  follow  me,"  said  Mr.  Gleely,  leading 
the  way  through  a  dark  avenue  that  conducted  to  the  wings. 

"  I'm  arter  you,"  responded  the  Yankee,  groping  through  the 
gloom  as  a  child  will  feel  its  way  in  an  unknown  place.  "  It's 
tarnation  dark  here — almost  as  black  as  our  cockloft,  and  the 
dark's  so  thick  there  you  can  slice  it  like  kowcumbcrs." 

The  passage  crossed,  the  descent  of  several  stairs^  brought 
them  on  the  stage,  where  the  new-comer  rolled  his  boiled-look- 
ing eyes  about  in  a  distraction  of  wonderment.  As  they  got  to 
the  prompter's  table,  a  tall,  athletic  man,  with  knitted  brows  and 
a  pilot  overcoat,  who  was  rehearsing  "  Melantius,"  walked  to- 
wards them,  and  exclaimed — 

"  Whore  Evadne's  honor  T 
Where's  her  honor,  that  I  left  one  crystal- 
Without  cloud,  flaw,  or  speck  fH 

The  poor  rustic,  thinking  by  the  tragedian's  manner  that  these 
words  were  directed  to  him,  started  with  a  dismal  twitch,  and 
the  next  moment  backed  into  the  orchestra,  where,  striking  the 
butt  of  a  huge  violoncello,  up  flew  his  heels,  and  down  he  tum- 
bled, as  sad  a  picture  of  distributed  desolation,  amid  spilt  violins, 
as  could  well  be  conceived. 

"  Help  !  Help  me  out !"  he  roared,  with  his  voice  struggling 
through  the  score  of  at  least  half-a-dozen  operas  that  had  fallen 
on  him  in  his  sudden  descent.  "  Take  me  out !  This  fat  fiddle 
will  be  the  death  of  me!" 

Mr.  Gleely  and  the  property-man  jumped  into  the  orchestra* 
and  assisted  him  to  rise ;  and  every  member  of  the  company 
then  present,  from  the  stage-manager  to  the  young  woman  in  the 
mouse-coloured  gaiters,  rushed  to  the  end  of  the  stage,  and  bent 


JONATHAN  BEHIND  THE  SCENES.  245 

their  gaze  into  the  gulph  of  music,  to  behold  who  the  capsized 
Victim  could  be. 

They  at  once  saw  that  he  was  a  countryman  and  a  stranger, 
by  his  garb  and  dialect,  and  a  tacit  understanding  that  waggery 
was  to  be  enacted,  seemed  to  run  the  round  of  the  actors. 

"Are  you  much  hurt  ?"  asked  Mr.  Gleely,  brushing  the  dust 
from  his  napkin-tinted  trowsers,  with  a  face  as  long  as  a  column. 

"  Not  much,"  replied  he,  gazing  at  the  chuckling  group 
around  him ;  "  except  I've  knocked  about  a  pound  of  skin  off 
my  shin  !" 

"  0  !  that's  nothing !"  consoled  the  comedian.  "  So  your 
head  isn't  hurt.  It  would  be  a  pity  if  you'd  damaged  that,  for 
it  would  have  been  the  utter  ruin  of  an  enormous  stage  face." 

This  last  remark  was  accompanied  by  a  suggestively  roguish 
wink  at  the  surrounding  people,  who  seemed  to  comprehend  its 
meaning,  and  the  whole  of  them — except  those  who  were  en- 
gaged in  the  rehearsal — nocked  merrily  to  the  green-room. 

"  Sit  down  there,"  said  the  comedian,  with  another  wicked 
wink  at  his  "  followers,"  placing  the  down-easter,  half  mysti- 
fied, in  a  large  coronation  chair.  "  Now,  ladies  and  gentlemen," 
continued  he,  turning  to  the  fun-loving  assembly;  lend  me 
your  fcars  to  what  I'm  about  to  say ;  you  see  this  worthy  man, 
don't  you?" 

"  Yes !  yes  !"  cried  everybody. 

"  He's  a  man  of  splendid  talents  in  our  glorious  profession, 
and  has  come  to  town  to  develop  that  ability  which  has  for  a 
term  of  sullen  years  been  buried,  as  it  were,  under  a  bushel." 

"  What  a  shame !"  exclaimed  the  feminine  owner  of  the 
mouse-colored  gaiters,  with  a  giggle. 

"  I  pray  you,  silence,  MacVlle  Pynkboots,  and  don't  laugh  at 
your  respected  parent,1'  continued  the  comedian. 

The  idea  of  his  being  her  "  respected  parent"  was  the  cue 
for  another  brief  giggle,  and  he  proceeded — 

"As  I  said  before,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  and  would  continue 


246  DASHES   OF    AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

to  say  till  the  end  of  time,  if  the  case  demanded  it,  and  I 
think  you  all  have  a  profound  respect  for  my  integrity — you 
see  this  brilliant  luminary — " 

"  I'm  not  a  luminary,  I'm  a  farmer  !"  interrupted  the  Yan- 
kee, with  a  regular  rustic  grunt. 

"  It's  all  the  same,  my  dear  sir,  quite  the  same ;  and  as  I 
was  about  to  observe,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  and  would  have 
observed  long  ere  this,  had  I  not  been  divers  times  interrupted 
— this  luminary  has  been  placed  under  my  guidance  by  our 
worthy  and  modest  manager,  because  he  knows  and  appreciates 
my  abilities  in  preparing  young  men  for  the  stage." 

"  Hear  !     Hear  !     Bravo  !"  roared  the  crowd. 

"  'Tis  true  Thespis  was  only  a  green-grocer,  but  what  an 
exponent  he  afterwards  became  !  Garrick  might  have  been  a 
pork-butcher,  for  all  we  know,  but  he  proved  to  the  astonished 
world  that  he  could  play  '  Hamlet'  as  well  as  he  could  cure 
hams,  and  slaughter  '  Polonius'  with  the  ease  that  he  could 
assassinate  swine.  Mrs.  Siddons  possibly  was  a  mantua- 
maker,  but  she  was  none  the  worse  for  that ;  and  if  the  great 
Edwin  Forrest  had  been  born  with  smaller  calves,  it  would  not 
have  marred  in  the  least  the  force  and  beauty  of  his  impersona- 
tions !" 

"  Good  !"  shouted  the  Yankee,  passing  his  hand  over  the 
vicinity  of  his  bruised  shin.  "  Big  legs  dont  make  no  kind 
a-difference." 

"  Now,  ladies  and  gentlemen,"  continued  Mr.  Gleely,  with 
the  same  mock  lugubrity  of  countenance,  "what  I  have  to  ask 
you  is — will  you  lend  a  helping  haDd  to  a  brother  artist  ?  Speak 
as  it  were  with  one  mighty  voice,  and  let  }rour  answer  fall  upon 
my  dullest  ear !" 

"  We  will !"  cried  some. 

"  Yes  !"  cried  others. 

"  Certainly!"  shrieked  the  rest. 

"  Then  listen  to  what  I  propose,  all — ladies  excepted.     Ma- 


JONATHAN  BEHIND  THE  SCENES.  247 

demoiselle  Pynkboots,  Madame  Popghee,  and  Miss  Alexina 
Virginia  Jull,  and  the  maidens  of  the  corps  du  ballet,  will  be 
so  good  as  to  retire  for  a  few  moments." 

The  ladies  mentioned,  headed  by  the  young  person  in  the 
mouse-colored  gaiters,  dawdled  out  of  the  room,  though  it  was 
evident  that  by  sundry  saucy  tosses  of  the  head  they  would 
have  preferred  to  remain. 

"  Now,  gentlemen,  I  suggest  that,  in  order  to  initiate  Mr. 
,  I  beg  your  pardon,  your  name  is ?" 

"  Barebones,"  said  the  Down  Easter. 

"  Barebones,"  repeated  the  comedian.  "  And,  by  the  way,  a 
capital  name  for  a  serious  actor.  I  say,  I  suggest  that  we,  in  a 
body,  accompany  Squarebones,  or  rather  Barebones,  to  the  ward- 
robe, and  there  invest  him  with  a  costume  fit  for  a  king,  in  order 
to  test  his  figure." 

"  'Skuze  me,  but  I'd  rather  not  do  that,"  interrupted  the 
Yankee  with  some  concern,  not  fully  comprehending  the  drift 
of  his  waggish  patron. 

"  It  must  be  so,  Plato,"  quotingly  added  Mr.  Gleely.  "  Test- 
ing the  figure  is  the  very  first  step  towards  becoming  an  actor : 
it's  done  in  order  to  regulate  your  shape.  Now,  hie  you,  gen- 
tlemen, to  the  wardrobe,  and  we'll  follow  you  anon." 

"When?"  innocently  asked  Mr.  Barebones. 

"  Anon — immediately — now.  Gentlemen,  begone !"  and  with 
a  melo-dramatic  flourish  of  his  arms,  such  as  gnomes  with  silver 
eyes  express  in  fairy  pieces,  the  comedian  sent  the  crowd  with 
a  magic  rush  from  the  room. 

"  We'll  go  quietly  up  now,"  said  the  comedian,  gravely ; 
"  and  I'll  dress  you  as  the  sanguinary  '  Pedro  de  Beetjuice,'  in 
the  '  Fatal  Toothpick.'  It  will  be  an  enchanting  part  for  you 
to  open  in.  Just  fancy  your  hopping  down  to  the  footlights  on 
one  leg,  and,  after  telling  the  audience  to  '  go  to  grass,'  to  draw 
out  a  dip  candle  from  your  boot,  and  then,  after  flourishing  it 
wildly,  thus,  to  three  bars  of  slow  music  and  seven  pans  of  red 
fire,  to  rashly  bury  it  to  the  wick  in  your  diaphram." 


248  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

"  Spose  you  hain't  got  a  die-a-fram  to  bury  it  in.  Wouldn't 
stickin'  it  in  the  pocket  do  jist  as  well  ?" 

"  Never,  never !  the  effect  would  be  lost.  Besides  it  would 
melt  if  you  grew  hot,  and — ." 

"  But,  ain't  I  dead  ?" 

"  Dead !  not  a-dead,  only  hurt.  You're  a  Spanish  conjuror, 
and  got  as  many  lives  as  a  cat.  But  come,  we'll  go  at  once  to 
the  'wardrobe,'"  and  pulling  Mr.  Barebones  by  the  skirts  of 
his  ample  coat,  he  limped  after  the  comedian,  and  both  made 
their  way  to  the  repository  of  costume. 

The  first  movement  here  was  to  select  as  grotesque  a  contrast 
of  garments  as  the  wags  could  lay  hands  on,  and  after  consider- 
able overhauling  and  confusion,  during  which  the  Down  Easter 
was  pulled  almost  to  bits,  his  spindle  legs  were  inserted  into  a 
pair  of  dilapidated  tights,  and  then  thrust  into  enormous  russet 
boots  that  looked  as  if  they  were  in  the  last  stage  of  jaundice. 
A  fine  cambric  habit-shirt  was  the  next  article  "  applied,"  over 
which  was  buttoned  an  immense  flowered  waistcoat,  such  as  rich 
old  uncles  from  India  wear  in  the  comedies.  A  military  coat, 
open  in  front,  followed ;  and  on  his  head  was  placed  a  gigantic 
helmet  that  concealed  at  least  one-third  of  his  stupid  physiogno- 
my. A  red-hot  poker  that  had  been  used  in  the  last  pantomime 
was  then  thrust  into  his  hands,  on  which  were  drawn  enormous 
boxing  gloves,  and  thus  attired,  he  was  marched  down  on  the 
stage  with  all  the  honors. 

The  tragedy  rehearsal  was  just  over,  and  a  number  of  cory- 
phees in  short  skirts  and  round-toed  faded  pink  slippers  were 
waiting  about  in  groups  in  anticipation  of  the  "  ballet  call,"  as 
Mr.  Barebones,  en  costume,  made  his  appearance.  Such  a  shriek 
as  those  mad-cap  hoydens  sent  up  when  they  beheld  the  "  make 
up"  of  the  new-comer.  One  told  him  to  brandish  his  poker; 
another  pinched  his  legs,  and  then  giggled  as  if  her  slippers 
would  burst  in  the  merriment.  One  pert  little  puss  insisted  on- 
his  dancing  the  Polka  with  her ;  and  still  another  ironically  ad-  ■ 


JONATHAN  BEHIND  THE  SCENES.  249 

dressed  him  as  <c  Mister  Garrick,"  and  seemed  curious  to  know 
the  period  that  his  dress  represented. 

"  Now  look  here,  you  gals,  go  away !"  at  last  exclaimed  he, 
iC  I'm  a  monerk,  and  mustn't  be  made  free  with.  Jist  stand 
aside  and  let  me  speak  a  piece  to  my  friend  here,"  meaning  Mr, 
Gleely. 

While  all  this  was  going  on,  the  comedian  had  given  instruc- 
tions to  the  mechanist  to  go  below  and  have  in  readiness  a  trap, 
which  was  to  be  worked  at  the  signal  of  a  bell.  A  theatrical 
mechanist  is  not  slow  to  execute  an  order  where  fun  is  at  the 
bottom,  and  he  was  promptly  at  his  place. 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  do  as  our  mighty  monarch  commands 
ye,"  said  Mr.  Gleely,  coming  forward  and  placing  the  Yankee 
on  the  prepared  trap  aforesaid.  "  He  is  now  about  to  open  the 
portals  of  his  regal  jaws,  and  we  listen  with  breathless  attention, 
eager  to  drink  in  every  word." 

A  general  huddle  commenced  among  coryphees,. actors,  super- 
numeries,  and  everybody,  in  arranging  themselves  about  the 
speaker. 

"  Now,  sir,  stand  in  that  position,"  pursued  Mr.  Gleely,  plac- 
ing his  pupil's  legs  closely  together,  and  casting  a  pointed  glance 
at  his  surrounding  colleagues.  "  That's  well.  Now  shoulder 
your  poker  like  a  musket.  Good !  Remember,  no  matter  what 
happens,  you  must  not  move,  because  if  you  do  it  will  break  the 
spell.     Remember  !" 

';  All  right,  I  won't  budge  an  inch,"  quoth  Yankee,  elevating 
his  head  and  blinking  under  the  weight  of  the  huge  helmet. 

"  Now,  sir,"  said  the  comedian,  "  you  must  repeat  what  I 
utter." 

"  Ya-as." 

"  Hugum  snugum  wo  belorem " 

As  far  as  it  was  possible  he  obeyed. 

"  Ji — ni — guy — wherem " 

Another  attempt  with  less  success. 


250  DASHES    OF    AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

"  Plus  nus,  and — disappear  I" 

At  that  moment  a  bell  faintly  tinkled,  and  the  next  instant 
the  candidate  for  histrionic  laurels  was  disappearing  with  more 
swiftness  than  was  comfortable  to  his  nerves.  Down  he  went, 
and  in  closed  the  floor  with  the  rapidity  of  thought. 

The  assembled  wags  joined  in  one  mighty  scream ;  the  cory- 
phees got  such  pains  in  their  sides,  it  was  full  an  hour  before 
they  could  "  get  on"  with  the  Pas  des  Poignards.  Mr.  Gleely 
consoled  himself  with  having  cured  a  young  man  of  a  dangerous 
infatuation — the  mechanist  crawled  quietly  from  the  basement — 
and  the  last  seen  of  the  Yankee,  he  was  minus  the  helmet  and 
poker,  mildly  inquiring  the  way  to  "  that  place  ivhar  he  left  his 
clothes." 


251 


YANKEE  INQUISITIVENESS. 


Hill  !  poor  Yankee  Hill !  He  was  the  very  incarnation  of 
drollery  and  esprit.  We  loved  to  see  his  smiling,  good-natured 
phiz  before  the  lights,  for  it  was  sure  to  impregnate  the  very 
atmosphere  with  a  sense  of  merriment.  He  possessed  a  genius 
for  the  impersonation  of  the  peculiarities  of  Down  East  charac- 
ter, which  no  actor  before  nor  since  his  time  has  approached, 
He  was  natural,  captivating,  easy,  and  brilliant.  With  what 
genial  unction  he  related  a  pleasantry ! — with  how  much  spark- 
ling zest  he  bantered  the  follies  of  mankind  !  The  witticisms 
flashed  from  his  lips  as  flakes  of  light  along  the  orient.  A  gay, 
glorious  fellow  was  he,  in  every  sense  of  the  expression. 

His  store  of  anecdotes  seemed  to  be  inexhaustible ;  and  he 
was  one  of  those  few  gifted  creatures  who  could  talk  all  day,  and 
still  have  something  left  worth  listening  to.  One  never  wearied 
of  hearing  him.     Age  did  not  tarnish, 

" nor  custom  stale, 

His  infinite  variety." 

His  whimsical  stories  yet  range  the  length  and  breadth  of  the 
United  States,  as  unowned  oddities.  They  have  been  passed 
from  one  to  another,  till  the  label  of  identity  has  fallen  from 
them  in  the  vortex  of  narration.  We  recognize  them  here  and 
there,  as  one  will  find  polished  pebbles  on  the  sea-beach.  What 
a  grotesque  medley  his  portfolio  would  present !  Spirit  of 
Momus  !  we  invoke  thee  to  assist,  by  thy  potent  influence,  the 
finding  of  this  rare  legacy  ! 


252  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR, 

"We  remember  a  scrap  of  adventure  that  Hill  used  to  relate, 
illustrative  of  the  trait  of  inquisitiveness,  so  noticeable  among 
the  primitive  home-spun  Yankees.  It  appears  that  the  come- 
dian was  travelling  in  a  stage-coach,  and  sat  next  to  a  gawky, 
slab-sided  Vermonter,  who  opened  the  conversation  with  the 
usual  platitudes  touching  "  weather — crops — and  gineral  matters 
ofintr's." 

"  You're  travelling,  I  guess,  Mister  ?"  said  Vermont. 

"  If  being  in  a  stage-coach  behind  four  fleet  roans  is  any  evi- 
dence of  it,  I  should  think  I  was,"  coolly  replied  Hill. 

"  Ya-as — you're  right,     E-e-h !" 

A  brief  pause. 

u  Travellin'  for  your  health  ?" 

"  Not  exactly,"  responded  Hili. 

u  0  !  then,  on  biz-iicss,  I  reckon,  eh  ?" 

"  Yes — no ;  that  is  to  say,  not  precisely." 

"  E-eh !  I  perceive — half  biz-ness  and  half  pleasure" — rolling 
his  large  eyes  about  like  bewildered  bagatelle  balls. 

"Something  in  that  way." 

And  not  caring  to  be  deluged  with  interrogatives,  as  he  could 
see  the  "  breed"  of  his  friend,  the  comedian  took  from  his  pocket 
a  copy  of  "  Humphrey  Clinker,"  and  soon  his  mind  was  psycho- 
logically with  that  notable  personage. 

"Umph!"  grunted  Vermont;  "I  beg  your  pardon,  Mister, 
but  is  it  fur  to " 

Hill  affected  not  to  hear  him.     He  repeated  the  question. 

"  Don:t  know,"  replied  he,  without  taking  his  eyes  from  the 
book. 

"Well,  should  yeou  think  it  wuz,  considerin'  what  we've 
come?" 

"  Can't  say." 

Another  "  slight"  silence. 

"  Like  this  part  of  the  country  ?" 

u  Yes" — in  a  gruff  tone. 


YANKEE   INQUISITIVENESS.  253 

"  So  do  I" — edging  still  closer  to  Hill. 

A  moment's  intermission. 

"  Yeou  live  abeout  here,  ^>re-haps  ?" 

"No." 

"  Nutker  dew  I." 

"Uniph!" 

"  That's  a  strange  coincidence." 

Vermont  here  adjusted  his  cravat — a  flowered  velvet  of  a 
strong  gamboge  tint — the  bow  of  which,  terminating  into  a  re- 
semblance of  a  tipsy  letter  X,  had  imperceptibly  jogged  round 
and  got  under  his  ear.  Bringing  the  bow  back  to  its  original 
position  under  his  chin,  he  remarked — 

61  Excuse  me,  Mister,  do  you  ever  expect  tew  come  this  way 
agin  ?" 

"  Have  no  positive  knowledge,"  laconically  replied  Hill. 

"  I  spose  you  don't  like  coach  ridin'  ?" 

"No." 

"  Not  half  so  nice  as  steamboat  or  cars,  is't  ?" 

"  Quite  agree  with  you." 

Here  he  eased  off  for  a  moment  or  two,  and  then  renewed  the 
attack.     Nudging  his  victim,  he  said — 

"  I'm  an  American,  I  am." 

"  Shouldn't  have  taken  you  for  either  a  Frenchman  or  a 
Spaniard,"  dryly  remarked  the  comedian. 

"  No  ?  I'm  glad  to  hear  you  say  so.  I've  been  told  afore 
now  that  I  had  a  real  Russian  mouth,  and  that  my  nose  was 
on  the  Greek  style,  but  I  reckon  they  ain't  if  the  truth  wuz  told." 

What  possible  affinity  there  could  exist  between  his  mouth 
and  Russia,  unless  it  was  its  extent,  would  be  hard  to  conjec- 
ture. If  Greek  noses  are  of  that  long  sort  that  hasten  down 
to  a  red  point,  then  his  nose  was  Grecian  in  the  extreme.  If 
not,  we  will  avoid  a  rash  classification  of  the  organ,  which  at  a 
glance  haply  reminded  one  of  a  platina  shell,  with  which  light- 
ning rods  are  tipped  to  guard  against  meteorological  disasters. 


254  DASHES   OF    AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

Hill  saw  it  was  no  use  to  thwart  the  fellow,  for  talk  he 
would,  "  come  what,  come  may."  The  words  bubbled  through 
his  lips  as  will-o'-the-wisps  swell  to  the  surface  of  a  marsh. 
The  comedian  laid  down  the  book,  and  the  Yankee's  eyes 
sparkled  in  the  anticipation  of  a  long,  gossipy,  old-fashioned 
chat. 

"  You're  an  American,  I  spose  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Yes." 

"  Du  yew  know  I  thought  you  wuz." 

"  Indeed  ?" 

"  Great  country  this,  eh  ?"  after  a  moment's  hesitation. 

"Extraordinary  country." 

"  Good  kind  of  land  tew  be  born  in." 

a  Truej> 

"  Our  mountains  tower  up  as  if  they  knew  what  they  were 
about,  eh  ?" 

"Unquestionably/' 

"  Our  rivers  ain't  no  puddles  nuther." 

«  Quite  right." 

"And  I  guess  our  lakes  would  make  folks  look  if  they  were 
hard  pushed."  • 

"  To  be  sure." 

"  I'm  glad  you  agree  with  me  on  them  pints,  I  am" — then 
relapsing  for  a  moment  into  a  blank  silence,  he  started  up  again 
with — 

"  What  teown  were  you  born  in,  if  it's  not  an  extravagant 
question  ?" 

"  Boston." 

"  Crinky,  how  odd  ! — I've  often  been  there." 

"  Ah,  indeed  I" 

Pause  of  at  least  fifty-five  seconds. 

"  Dew  yeou  know — now  don't  say  it's  curusity — but  since 
we  have  got  tew  talkin',  mister,  dew  yeou  know  I  should  like 
to  know  yeour  Dame." 


YANKEE    INQUISITIVENESS.  255 

"  Would  you  ?"  said  the  comedian,  laughing. 

"  It  runs  in  my  head  I've  seen  you  somewhere." 

"  Very  possible." 

"  And  yeour  name  is ?" 

"Hill." 

"  0,  indeed !  I  know  a  good  many  Hills  livin'  in  Vermont ; 
our  head  thresher's  name  is  Hill,  I  swow.  How  odd  !  There's 
a  goodish  sprinklin'  of  Hills  all  over  Vermont." 

The  comedian  fancied  for  an  instant,  but  only  an  instant, 
that  his  name  had  "given  rise"  to  a  pun,  but  a  glance  at  the 
hard  features  of  his  friend  convinced  him  the  play  on  the  word 
was  grossly  unintentional. 

"  Well,  how  very  strange  I  should  know  so  many  of  yeour 
name  !  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  I  knew  people  with  yeour  full 
name.     What  might  yeour  Christian ?" 

Hill  saw  what  was  coming,  and  replied — 

"  George." 

"  Is  that  a  fact  ?  Oh,  you're  certainly  joking.  Why  my 
name's  George,  too.     Wheeler — George  Wheeler's  my  name." 

"  Oh !" 

u  Yes.     Naow  yeou  were  born ?" 

"  In  Boston, ." 

11  Ya-as,  'zactly  so.     Boston,  Massachusetts,  of  CQurse." 

"  Certainly;  Boston,  Massachusetts — New  England — North 
America,"  said  Hill,  who,  bored  to  death  by  this  time  with 
inquiries,  placidly  settled  down  in  the  corner  of  the  coach  and 
shut  his  eyes.  Vermont  was  not  to  be  thrown  aside  so  easily, 
however ;  and  contracting  his  sharp  features — every  angle  of 
which  seemed  to  ask  a  question — he  stretched  his  neck,  and 
said — 

"  S'kuse  me,  but  wkat^a;^  of  Boston  were  yeou  born  ?" 

Hill's  patience  evaporated  at  that  moment,  and  determining 
to  tie  up  in  a  packet  every  possible  interrogatory,  replied — 

"  Near  the  centre,  close  by  the  '  Old  South,'  about  four 


256  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

o'clock  in  the  morning,  in  the  dead  of  winter,  in  Milk 
Street." 

Hill  thought  he  had  left  the  fellow  no  margin  now.  and  judge 
his  surprise  when  he  leaned  over  and  said —       «      0 

"  If  it's  not  troublin'  yeou  too  much,  what  side  of  Milk 
Street  was  yeou  born  o?i,  and  what  wtjz  the  number  ?m 

The  comedian  avows  that  after  that  "last  stroke"  he  got  out 
of  the  coach,  and  pursued  the  balance  of  the  journey  on  the 
box  with  the  driver. 


257 


A  YANKEE  IN  THE  GOLD  REGION, 


When  the  golden  sun  of  prospective  California  wealth  first 
dawned  upon  the  republic  of  the  western  world,  the  mania  was 
sudden  and  intense.  Everybody  dreamed  of  riches,  splendor, 
and  coming  happiness.  An  El  Dorado  had  sprung  up  as  from 
the  magic  wand  of  an  enchanter,  which  was  to  confer  blessings 
on  the  poor,  and  add  to  the  gains  of  the  opulent.  The  talk  by 
day  was  gold ;  the  dream  by  night  was  of  the  yellow  metal ! 
America  was  destined  at  last  not  only  as  the  u  cradle  of  liberty," 
but  the  inexhaustible  mine  to  supply  the  world  with  dazzling 
riches.  Dissatisfied  emigrants,  who  had  sought  the  "  young 
country"  with  the  view  of  bettering  their  condition,  blessed  their 
stars  of  destiny  for  guiding  their  footsteps  to  the  Ophir  of 
earthly  hopes.  Honest  citizens,  who  had  toiled  along  through 
life,  now  foresaw  the  period  when  all  their  brightest  dreams 
should  be  realized.  Artful  speculators,  big  with  ambition  of 
"  profits,"  and  fearful  of  "  loss,"  congratulated  themselves  on 
the  approach  of  that  "  good  time"  which  had  been  so  "  long 
coming." 

An  immediate  gradation  of  fortune  was  expected.  Errand- 
boys  would  bo  clerks,  and  clerks  masters.  The  race  popularly 
known  as  counter-jumpers  would  go  out  of  existence,  and  assume 
some  other  form  of  dignity  and  importance.  Signs,  on  which 
were  shadowed  in  little  bald  letters  the  word,  Retail,  would 
fade  away  and  swell  in  pompous  capitals,  WHOLESALE  ! 
Keepers  of  candy-shops  would  no  longer  retail  half-starved 
sticks  of  slim  sweetstuff.  and  <:  make  themselves  ridiculous " 


258  DASHES    OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

behind  a  small  stock  of  juvenile  merchandize,  but  would  cut 
"  this  sort  of  thing,"  and  loom  out  in  a  larger  way.  As  for 
street-sweepers,  the  "  way"  was  about  to  be  "  paved"  for  some- 
thing better ;  and  mendicants  would  go  out  of  fashion,  there 
being  no  longer  "  need"  of  their  begging.  Who  would  drive 
the  carriages  was  a  subject  of  vehicular  concern,  since  every- 
body was  to  ride.  Where  housemaids  were  to  come  from,  since 
all  the  petticoats  were  to  be  heiresses,  was  a  puzzle  to  solve. 
Who  on  earth  would  scrub,  when  all  were  busy  with  scrip  ? 
who  clean  up  dirt,  when  all  were  scraping  up  gold-dust  Indi- 
gent young  feminines,  who  were  once  happily  content  with 
calico,  and  looked  upon  the  gift  of  a  u  balzorine"  as  a  god-send, 
now  conversed  familiarly  of  silks,  and  even  went  so  far  as  to 
protest  they  would  never  think  of  wearing  anything  short  of 
"  low-necked  satins." 

Very  old  people,  who  had  long  given  up  the  idea  of  ever 
improving  their  positions,  now  lighted  up  with  enthusiasm,  and 
shook  away  their  wrinkles  in  the  transport  of  their  hopes. 
Young  children,  that  had  never  advanced  beyond  marbles,  now 
thought  those  cunning  stone  toys  were  all  very  well ;  but  the  cry  of 
"  knuckle  down"  had  changed  to  "  down  with  the  dust !"  Tops 
were  left  to  spin  themselves,  while  their  owners  went  round  the 
Horn — the  "  top  of  the  heap"  being  the  great  goal  of  expecta- 
tion ;  kites  must  take  care  of  themselves,  for  their  owners  were 
high-flying  in  the  clouds  of  expectation  ;  battledore  was  at  war 
with  speculation,  and  of  course  deserted  in  consequence ;  rolling- 
hoops  were  now  out  of  the  question,  the  extravagant  thought  of 
rolling  in  riches  had  displaced  the  idea ;  and  as  for  "rattles," 
the  clink  of  ingots  was  to  silence  such  inventions. 

Such,  then — perhaps  fancifully  interpreted — was  the  feeling 
of  all  classes  of  society  in  regard  to  the  discovery  of  gold  ore  in 
California.  The  nation  was  up  "  in  arms  and  eager  for  the 
fray;"  and  preparations  were  made  for  leaving  the  quietude  of 
home  for  the  eager  toil  for  gold.     The  active  enterprise  of  the 


A  YANKEE  IN  THE  GOLD  REGION.  259 

New-England  people  was  soonest  affected,  and  immediately 
manifested  itself  in  a  mob  of  sand- washers,  river  pans,  picks, 
and  other  appliances  for  sifting  out  the  precious  metal.  Joint- 
stock  companies  were  formed  in  the  little  towns,  and  machinery 
concocted  to  carry  out  the  golden  views  of  the  treasure-seekers. 
The  route  to  San  Francisco  became  a  living  line  of  adventurers, 
and  the  world  had  sent  its  deputation  to  look  after  the  repre- 
sented wealth  of  the  country. 

The  down-easters,  or,  as  they  are  more  generally  termed,  the 
Yankees,  were  first  and  foremost  in  the  general  search :  but, 
with  all  their  enterprise  and  shrewdness,  many  of  them  were 
doomed  to  bitter  difficulties. 

The  glowing  accounts  had  been  exaggerated,  and  nothing 
short  of  severe  labour,  added  to  "  good  luck,"  would  lead  to  the 
accomplishment  of  the  desired  object.  These  failures  brought 
into  full  play  all  of  the  characteristics  of  cuteness  and  "  tarna- 
tion smartness"  among  the  Yankee  adventurers,  who,  so  long 
as  they  had  been  defeated  in  the  grand  motive  of  their  visit, 
must  turn  their  absence  from  home  to  some  account.  Here 
wooden  nutmegs  and  willow  oats  would  not  tell,  as  spices  were 
very  little  in  demand,  and  live  stock  could  subsist  on  the 
luxuriant  verdure  of  the  plains. 

Among  the  Maine  emigrants  was  a  sharp  old  fellow  from 
Bangor,  who  had  sold  off  a  small  farm  and  turned  all  of  his 
ready  cash  into  tools  for  turning  out  the  treasure.  He  started 
for  the  promised  land  basking  in  the  sunshine  of  a  certain  for- 
tune; but  after  remaining  at  the  "diggings"  some  two  months 
without  any  fortune  overtaking  him,  he  one  day  threw  down  his 
pick,  gathered  up  his  tools,  and  arrived  at  the  conclusion  that 
this  labour  in  vain  would  not  do.  He  changed  about  in  various 
gulches,  located  on  different  rivers,  and  settled  on  soil  that  was 
supposed  to  be  teeming  with  value,  all  to  no  purpose.  Ca- 
pricious destiny  taunted  him  witli  unvarying  failure. 

But  Asa  Fuller  was  not  to  be  cast  down,  and  something  else 


260  DASHE9   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

must  be  found  to  answer.  He  wondered  at  his  ill-success,  when 
less  deserving  persons  all  around  him  were  stumbling  over 
chunks  of  gold  as  big  as  eggs. 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Asa,  "  I'll  show  them  a  yankee  trick." 

He  turned  over  his  remaining  funds,  and  found  five  thousand 
dollars  reduced  to  the  wreck  of  five  hundred. 

"  This  will  serve  my  purpose,"  said  he ;  u  I'll  do  it.' 

Wandering  up  the  Juki  river,  he  purchased  from  a  New 
England  company  three  hundred  dollars'  worth  of  rich  quartz, 
and  keeping  his  purchase  a  profound  secret,  crossed  over  to 
Sacramento  City,  and  locating  on  a  .small  tract  of  land  just  out 
of  the  populated  district,  turned  up  the  ground  and  buried  the 
lumps  of  quartz.  Then  replacing  the  earth  and  carefully  mark- 
ing the  spots,  he  waited  the  issue  of  his  experiment. 

An  opportunity  soon  occurred  for  him  to  put  in  practice  his 
scheme.  One  of  his  neighbours — an  enormously  wealthy  man, 
but  desperately  mean  and  niggard — the  very  next  day  happened 
to  look  in  on  Asa,  and  they  entered  into  conversation. 

The  Yankee  had  seen  him  approach,  and,  hurrying  out  his 
spade,  thrust  it  several  times  into  the  earth,  and  seemed  to  have 
just  commenced  digging. 

11  They  say,"  remarked  the  mean  man,  "  that  you're  new 
purchase  has  not  turned  out  so  prolific  as  it  might." 

"  Yes,  but  I  am  very  well  satisfied  with  it,"  replied  Asa, 
turning  up  a  spadeful  of  loam  as  if  by  the  merest  accident. 

u  G-old  is  very  scarce,  and  near  the  settlements  most  espe- 
cially," continued  the  mean  man. 

"  'Spose  so ;  and  'bout  here  auriferous  land  is  worth  its 
weight  in  dollars,"  said  Asa,  with  the  removal  of  another  clump 
of  earth. 

"  Yes,  for  Sacramento  is  bound  to  be  extended  past  this  dis- 
trict"— and  as  the  mean  man  spoke,  his  eyes  fell  on  a  lump  of 
glittering  quartz  that  Asa  had  just  turned  up,  but  which  the 
digger  affected  not  to  observe. 


A  YANKEE  IN  THE  GOLD  REGION.  261 

The  eyes  of  the  mean  man  sparkled,  while  Asa  was  as  cool 
as  a  sherry  cobbler.  The  conversation  ran  on,  and  in  a  few 
moments  another  shiny  chunk  was  as  carelessly  evolved.  This, 
as  before,  met  the  gaze  of  the  mean  man,  but  Asa  failed  from 
design  to  see  it. 

A  sudden  thought  seemed  to  strike  the  mind  of  the  visitor. 

"  I  say,  Asa,  what  are  you  digging  for  ?" 

"  0,  jist  for  the  want  of  somethin'  better  to  do." 

"  Did  you  ever  think  of  selling  this  property  ?" 

"Selling  it !  N-o — not  particularly." 

"  Do  you  know,  I'd  like  to  buy,"  said  the  mean  man. 

"  Well,  squire,  what  would  you  give  ?"  asked  Asa. 

"What  did  it  cost  you  ?" 

"  That's  a  horse  of  another  colour,"  replied  the  Yankee. 

"  Suppose  I — it's  a  whimsical  notion  of  mine,  and  I'm  famous 
for  doing  odd  things — suppose  I  give  you  ten  thousand  dollars 
for  the  patch — what  do  you  say  ?" 

And  as  the  mean  man  spoke,  in  the  most  casual  manner  he 
crushed  the  lumps  in  the  fresh  earth  with  his  heel  until  they 
were  out  of  sight.  Of  course  Asa  did  not  see  this  ;  nor  after 
the  previous  offer  would  he  have  seen  it  for  the  world. 

"  Come,  Asa,  what  do  you  say  ?" 

"  Well,  squire,  I  must  think  of  it." 

"You'd  better  make  up  your  mind  at  once.  Ten  thousand 
dollars  is  a  big  sum." 

"  So  it  is,  but  twenty  thousand  is  bigger,  'cordin  to  simple 
addition,"  idly  said  Asa,  and  lo  and  behold  another  small  lump 
was  thrown  glittering  to  the  surface.  Asa  leaned  on  his  spade, 
picked  it  up,  and  turning  it  over,  remarked — 

"  These  are  nice  playthings  to  find  now  and  then.  I  say, 
squire,  this  is  not  bad  to  take — it's  as  full  of  the  l  gilt '  as  a  hive 
is  of  honey.  See  !"  and  he  handed  the  rich  mineral  to  his  ava- 
ricious neighbour  for  examination. 

"  Yes,"  replied   tho  mean  man,  nervously  turning  the  lump 


262  DASHES   OF"  AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

in  his  hand,  "  this  seems  a  good  specimen,  truly ;  but  I 
should'nt  suspect  there  was  much  of  it  about  here." 

"  Nor  I,  neither,"  said  Asa,  with  the  most  unaffected  inno- 
cence of  physiognomy. 

"  Well,  don't  you  think  you'd  better  accept  my  offer,"  pur- 
sued Old  Meany,  now  overflowing  with  a  boiling  desire  to 
possess  the  ground ;  tt  for,"  thought  he,  "  if  such  slight  digging 
yields  so  much,  what  will  a  '  set '  search  do  ?" 

u  Come,  Asa,  I  may  get  out  of  the  notion ;  you'd  better  take 
me  while  I'm  in  the  humour." 

"  No,  come  round  to-morrow,  and  I'll  talk  to  you." 

But  the  mean  man  was  not  thus  to  be  put  off ;  he  was  too 
knowing  for  that — 0  yes  ! 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do ;  it's  clear  to  me  I  may  soon  want 
this  land  to  carry  out  a  project  I  haye  in  view.  I'll  close  the 
bargain  at  once,  and  give  yon  twenty  thousand  <l<>//<rr$£oY  your 
right  and  title.  Five  minutes,  now,  to  make  up  your  mind;" 
and  the  mean  man  drew  ont  his  watch. 

Asa  affected  to  be  callously  indifferent  to  the  offer;  and  after 
a  half-dozen  "  hems  and  haws" — such  as  poor  relations  receive 
when  soliciting  succour  from  i  rich  uncle — finally  drawled 
out — 

"  I  'spose  you'll  pay  back  taxes  and  lawyer's  fees  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  And  pint  up  the  twenty  thousand  in  hard  pewter  ?" 

"  Yes." 

u  All  right — it  shall  be  yours." 

The  squire  started  for  home  to  conclude  the  arrangements; 
but  as  he  was  going  he  added — 

"  Don't  you  dare  to  dig  while  I'm  gone." 

"Not  a  spoonful,"  said  Asa. 

"  I'll  be  back  in  a  twinkle  !''     And  off  the  mean  man  started. 

"  This  is  not  a  bad  day's  work,;'  soliloquized  the  Yankee, 
throwing   his  spade  aside,  for  he  had  no  further  use  for  it. 


A  YANKEE  IN  THE  GOLD  REGION.  263 

"  The  land  cost  me  one  hundred  and  seventy-five  dollars,  and 
the  "  bait"  three  hundred  ;  this  is  a  clear  gain  of  a  cool  nineteen 
thousand  five  hundred  and  twenty-five.  And  now  I'll  go  and 
take  a  private  drink  on  my  success." 

The  squire  returned  with  the  necessary  "  documents,"  and  in 
less  than  five  hours  the  complete  transfer  was  made,  and  Asa 
had  the  "  pewter"  safely  stowed  away  in  four  brown  leathern 
bags  in  the  shape  of  gold  dust. 

His  mean  friend,  on  the  strength  of  seeing  his  unnoticed  luck, 
had  bought  on  a  a  spec,"  and  went  to  working  the  land  on  a 
magnificent  scale,  but  with  what  success  "  deponent  sayeth  not." 


264  DASHES   OF    AMERICAN    HUMOR. 


A  STORY  WITH  MORE  OR  LESS  SPICE  IN  IT. 


A  thousand  droll  stories  have  been  related  in  which  the 
effects  of  spirituous  liquors  played  considerable  part.  Whiskey 
from  time  immemorial  has  been  famous  for  creating  "  sliiii'1  i 
and  if  two-thirds  of  the  rows  of  the  universe  were  subtilly  ana- 
lyzed, King  Alcohol — as  Father  Mathew  christened  it — would 
be  found  to  have  a  large  hand  in  their  outbreak.  Every  other 
half-quartern  of  "  something  hot*'  seems  to  have  a  quarrel  hid 
in  the  bottom.  The  exhilarating  pop  of  champagne  frequently 
ends  in  the  alarming  pop  of  pistols,  and  the  sudden  production 
of  broadswords  have  been  known  before  now  to  grow  out  of  the 
sparkle  of  the  beaker.  It  is  a  pity  that  pale  sherry  anddi 
arc  so  closely  allied,  and  very  abstemious  people  would  tell  us 
that  to  avoid  the  effect  we  should  shun  the  es 

We  are  not  agoing  to  moralize  just  at  this  moment,  but  here 
take  occasion  to  "  return  thanks"  to  the  genius  that  "  rules  the 
waves"  of  the  lakes  of  liquor  that  are  annually  manufactured, 
for  so  arranging  it  that  fun  as  well  as  feuds  frequently  "  come 
out"  of  the  bottle.  Many  a  jest  has  been  born  of  a  jorum,  and 
the  godfather  of  repartee  is  assuredly  champagne.  Charles 
Lamb  said  that  wit  comes  in  with  the  candles,  and  we  are  of  the 
opinion  that  it  makes  its  appearance  likewise  with  the  goblet. 

How  many  taciturn  men  have  been  moved  to  sensible  loqua- 
city by  the  convivial  passage  of  the  "  loving  cup"  !  for  there  is 
no  doubt  that  the  best  key  to  unlock  the  treasures  of  diffident 
tongues  in  whis-key.  The  aforesaid  very  abstemious  people* 
will  condemn  this  last  sentence  as  an  old  joke  wrapped  up  in  a 


A   STORY   WITH   MORE   OR   LESS    SPICE   IN   IT.  265 

base  theory,  and  possibly  may  go  so  far  as  to  not  read  another 
line  in  consequence :  however  this  may  be,  we  must  farther  pro- 
test that,  in  many  cases,  what  oil  is  to  machinery,  wine  is  to  the 
intellect,  causing  the  ideas  to  run  easier,  and  preventing  those 
disagreeable  stops  and  stumbles  that  bashful  soberness  icill 
sometimes  create.  What  armies  of  puns,  countless  as  Pharoah's 
host,  have  risen  like  so  many  jovial  Venuses  from  the  foam  of 
"  sherry  cobblers"  !  and  there  is  no  kind  of  doubt  existing  in 
our  mind,  that  -if  a  quizzical  narrative  of  all  the  queer  hap-hazard 
gay  doings  of  this  life  were  candidly  written,  a  Bacchantic  phy- 
siognomy would  now  and  then  peep  out  like  a  wild  and  mirth- 
ful mask  during  the  recital. 

This  subject  reminds  us  of  an  anecdote  we  remember  to  have 
heard  in  "  Yankee  Land,"  of  a  young  man  that  had  but  just 
entered  into  the  silken  bonds  of  matrimony.  His  wife,  a  most 
amiable  creature,  had  a  mortal  hatred  of  liquor ;  and  though 
Tom  often  indulged  on  the  sly  with  his  convivial  companions, 
he  took  care  always  to  be  "right  side  up"  when  he  went  home. 
He  would  not  have  his  wife  find  him  in  such  a  state  for  all  the 
gold  in  the  universe ;  and  yet  he  could  not  sign  the  pledge  of 
total  abstinence,  from  the  fact  of  being  the  vice-president  of  a 
club  of  jolly  fellows,  all  of  whom  believed  in  grape  juice.  For 
at  least  six  months  after  his  marriage,  in  the  presence  of  his 
"better  half"  he  was  as  "  straight  as  a  pin,"  and  she  had  set  it 
down  that  a  blessing  in  the  shape  of  a  strictly  sober  husband 
had  fortunately  fallen  to  her  lot. 

"  Tom,"  one  morning  said  she  lovingly,  "  we  have  now  been 
a  wedded  couple  half  a  year,  and  never  once  have  I  had  the 
slightest  occasion  to  reproach  you." 

Of  course  Tom  was  delighted  to  hear  his  dear  little  wife  talk 
so  encouragingly,  and  express  happiness  at  his  behaviour;  and 
he  repeated  assurances  of  his  determination  always  to  be  an  at- 
tentive, sober  husband. 

But  in  the  ocean  of  life  how  little  we  can  foresee  the  breakers 


266  DASHES   OF    AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

of  temptation  !  Tom  had  to  dine  that  very  evening  with  the 
"  Owls"  (the  ornithological  title  of  his  club);  and  he  felt  in  ad- 
mirable spirits,  and  his  health  was  drunk  warmly  and  frequently 
after  the  removal  of  the  cloth;  the  consequence  was  that  by  the 
time  the  company  separated  he  was  in  a  happy  state  of  elevation, 
with  a  vivid  notion  of  men,  women,  and  all  things  terrestrial. 

"  Hic-c-c,  I  r-r-eally  believe  Fmd-d-runk  I"  soliloquized  Tom, 
poising  himself  on  his  heels,  with  his  arm  clasped  endearingly 
around  a  lamp-post.  "  W-w-hat  the  d-d-evil.-  to.be  done.  Am 
I  d-d-reaming,  or  am  I  d-d-runk — which  is  it  ?  Will  somebody 
tell  me  ?" 

A  knot  of  wags  passing  at  the  moment,  hearing  his  voice, 
roared  in  combined  tones — "  You're  drunk — beastly  drun! 

"  There,  now  it's  out,  and  no  more  than  I  s-suspccted,"  con- 
tinued Tom  mournfully,  in  a  maudlin  voice.  H  What  will  Clara 
say — ugh  !  Curse  that  last  julep,  I  say — if  it  hadn't  been  for 
that  I'd  have  passed  muster;  but  now  she  can  tell  it  by  my  eyes 
— I  f-f-feel  as  if  I  had  a  dozen  pair  of  eyes  ;  and  as  for  ton-ton- 
gues, I've  got  a  score  all  wiggin'  away  for  dear  life." 

Tom  here  losing  a  proper  and  important  equilibrium,  his 
heels  suddenly  flew  higher  in  the  air  than  is  necessary  for  every- 
day cases  of  pedestrianism,  and  per  consequence  he  was  the  next 
moment  in  a  most  u  -  position  in  the  gutter. 

u  Hie,  hie.  this  is  r-rich,  I  m-m-ust  say.  'Spose  Clara  should 
s-see  me  now — 'twas  on-ly  to-day  she  p-p-praised  my  in-in-tegri- 
ty.  Tom,  Tom  you're  a  b-b — yes,  you  are,  so  don't  deny  it — 
you're  a  b-beast  !': 

By  dint  of  a  series  of  vast  efforts  he  succeeded  in  gaining  his 
feet,  and  proceeded  towards  home  reeling,  and  talking  to  himself 
all  the  way.  After  mistaking  the  house  next  door,  the  door 
front  of  which  was  the  same,  for  his  own,  he  had  an  undecided 
search  of  at  least  an  hour  for  his  latch-key.  which  he  at  length 
found  in  his  boot,  it  having  slipped  down  his  trowser  leg  through 
a  hole  in  his  pocket.  , 


A   STORY    WITH   MORE    OR    LESS    SPICE   IN   IT.  267 

Now  in  the  hall,  he  leaned  up  against  the  wall  and  undertook 
a  cogitation.  He  could  sufficiently  gather  his  senses  to  remember 
the  clock  in  his  wife's  room  was  out  of  repair,  and  as  she  had 
retired,  she  would  not  be  able  to  tell  the  time  he  had  got  in. 
That  was  a  grand  point  gained. 

"  I  know  what  I'll  do  ;  I'll  go  to  bed  in  the  dark,  and  then 
she  won't  notice  my  eyes,"  ruminated  Tom.  But  hold  on — I'd 
like  to  forgot  it — she'll  smell  my  breath — how  can  I  fix  that  ?  " 

He  puzzled  for  a  few  moments,  and  in  the  end  concluded  to 
seek  the  kitchen,  and  meddle  slightly  with  the  spice-box.  Down 
the  stone  stairs  he  went,  and  after  putting  his  hand  into  half- 
a-dozen  various  fluids,  feeling  into  a  row  of  pans,  jugs,  and 
dishes,  at  length  he  found  a  handful  of  cloves,  which  he  thrust 
into  his  mouth  as  if  they  had  been  so  many  sugar-plums. 

"  T-t-they're  d-devilish  hot,"  spluttered  Tom,  with  his  face 
all  aglow ;  but  they  answer  the  purpose.  How  I  wish  Bob 
Stiles  was  here,  to  tell  me  whether  the  brandy  is  sufficiently 
disguised. 

Satisfied  that  the  fragrance  of  the  cloves  had  out-odored  the 
scent  of  the  "  ardent,"  he  mounted  the  stairs,  and  with  the 
exception  of  a  couple  of  small  stumbles,  gained  his  chamber  in 
safety.  Now  he  would  have  been  indeed  happy,  had  his  wife 
not  been  wide  awake. 

"  Why,  Thomas,  how  late  you  are,"  said  she;  "  where's  the 
candle?" 

"  Oh,  never  mind  the  candle,"  said  he,  in  as  steady  a  tone  as 
he  could  assume.     "  It's  not  late." 

"  I  should  judge  it  was  very  late,"  said  she ;  "  dear  me,  I 
must  have  that  clock  fixed." 

"  Y-e-s,  so  we  must,"  said  Tom,  with  miraculous  delibera- 
tion, for  one  solitary  hiccup  would  have  betrayed  him.  As  to 
the  clock's  uncertain  condition,  it  was  a  phenomena  of  good 
luck  for  him. 

0  Does  it  look  like  rain,  dear  ?"  kindly  inquired  Clara. 


268  DASHES   OF    AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

Now  if  Tom  had  been  put  on  his  oath,  he  could  no  more 
have  answered  correctly,  in  regard  to  the  appearance  of  the 
weather,  than  the  man  in  the  moon,  and  not  half  so  much,  for 
it  is  fair  to  suppose  that  if  there  be  a  man  in  the  moon,  he  is 
not  addicted  to  the  practice  of  drinking,  and  therefore  keeps  a 
bright  look  out  on  tilings  below. 

He  replied  guardedly — "  'Pon  my  word  I  don't  know,  but 
I'll  look,"  and  feeling  his  way  to  the  window,  he  threw  aside 
the  curtains,  and  a  bar  of  pale  starlight  threw  itself  immediately 
on  his  wife's  face.  "  Clear  as  crystal,  you  perceive,  dear'' — and 
down  went  the  curtain  again. 

Clara  was  very  thoughtful  and  affectionate,  and  suggested  that 
if  the  curtain  was  kept  up,  he  could  see  his  way  better  about 
the  room. 

"  No,  no,  dear,"  replied  Tom,  very  slowly  as  before,  "  I've 
heard  that  starlight  produces  lunacy  after" — midnight  he  was 
about  to  say,  but  caught  himself  dexterously,  considering  his 
situation — "  and  that's  dreadful,  you  know." 

Tom  made  several  stumbles  after  this,  and  presently  his  wife 
caught  a  whiff  of  the  cloves. 

"  Good  gracious,  Tom,  how  long  you  are,  and  how  dreadfully 
you  smell  of  cloves." 

"  Eh  ?"  said  Tom,  starting—"  C-1-o-v-e-s  ?" 

"  Yes,  cloves  ! — any  one  would  think  you'd  been  embalmed 
like  a  mummy." 

This  made  him  twitch  and  go  wool-gathering. 

"  Phew !  you're  regularly  scented  with  them.  Where  on  earth 
have  you  been  to-night  ?" 

Tom  was  thrown  entirely  off  his  guard  ;  his  brain  rambled, 
and  without  the  remotest  idea  of  what  he  was  saying,  replied — 
"  "W-h-why — hic-^Clara  dear,  the  fact  is  I  just  been  on  a  little 
trip  to  the  East  Indies,  and  vjlule  I  was  there  I  fell  over  a 
spice-box.''1 

This  told  a  tale.     Clara  immediately  sat  up  in  bed  and  shed 


A   STORY   WITH   MORE   OR   LESS    SPICE   IN   IT.  269 

tears.  The  cat  was  out  of  the  bag,  and  we  should  not  be  sur- 
prised but  that  a  Caudle  lecture  as  long  as  a  charity  sermon  was 
the  consequence  of  poor  Tom's  unfortunate  slip  of  the  tongue. 
He  has  never  touched  cloves  from  that  day  to  this,  and  it  is 
probable  ere  long  he  will  avoid  the  a  bottle"  entirely,  his  wife 
insisting  that  every  one  that  drinks  must  sooner  or  later  keep 
company  with  a  subterraneous  person,  distinguished  from  the 
rest  of  mankind  by  a  remarkable  species  of  tail  and  a  "  cloven" 
foot ;  this  latter  adornment  would  keep  Tom  out  of  his  road,  if 
nothing  else  succeeded. 
Most  decidedly. 


270  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 


AN  OHIO  WEDDING. 


Without  the  slightest  desire  to  be  intentionally  alliterative — 
a  euphonism  of  language  at  which  the  savcms  affect  to  turn  up 
their  ugly  noses  (for  who  ever  did  see  a  critic  with  a  handsome 
"  handle"  to  his  physiognomy) — we  are  about  to  remark  that 
extraordinarily  odd  things  often  occur  in  Ohio.  Of  course 
we  do  not  mean  in  that  portion  of  the  State  nearest  to  the  mag- 
nificent river  that  flows  murmuringly  as  a  boundery  ;  nor  in  the 
large  cities,  such  as  Cincinnati,  the  "  Pride  of  the  West,"  or 
"  Porkopolis,"  as  the  eastern  editors  call  it.  in  sheer  envy  of  the 
billions  of  burly  swine  that  are  annually  knocked  in  the  head  in 
the  neighbourhood.  But  it  is  in  the  little  towns  far  back  near 
the  borders,  in  what  are  termed  the  Lake  Counties,  where  ridi- 
culously primitive  "  goings-on"  are  enacted,  and  of  which  we 
purpose  to  tell  the  reader. 

Connubiality  up  that  way  is  not  made  a  theme  of  protracted 
consideration,  "  long  drawn  out."  Wooing  is  not  carried  on  to 
indefinite  periods,  and  then  timidly  turned  into  a  mere  conjugal 
job.  There  is  an  absence  of  all  that  fuss  and  shopping,  brides- 
maid manoeuvring,  and  honeymoon-ing.  There  is  no  occasion 
for  a  wedding-breakfast ;  cut-glass  smelling-bottles  at  the  altar  ; 
silks  and  furbelows ;  orange-blossoms  in  the  hair ;  announce- 
ments in  the  papers ;  and  the  nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine 
items  of  nonsense  which  are  all  deemed  established  stepping- 
stones  to  the  temple  of  bliss. 

There  is  no  occasion  for  the  bridegroom  to  glitter  in  smooth 
kids  and  a  satin  waistcoat.  There  need  be  no  purple  suspenders 


AN    OHIO    WEDDING.  271 

and  gilt-eclged  dickeys  ;  diamond  rings  are  not  demanded  ;  nor 
need  there  be  a  white  a  choker  ;"  or,  for  the  matter  of  that,  any 
throat-covering  at  all.  There  seems  to  be  no  wish  for  carriages 
with  superb  trappings,  to  stand  in  magnificent  waiting  at  the 
chapel-doors ;  no  picturesque  footmen  with  polished  staffs  and 
powdered  locks,  to  gossip  outside  while  the  ceremony  is  being 
conducted  within.  The  parson  may  officiate  without  flowing 
robes  and  solemn  stateliness.  "  Pomp  and  circumstance"  are 
wholly  set  aside  as  dead  letters.  Courting  is  thus  carried  on  : 
when  the  couple  meet  that  "  have  a  liking  for  each  other,"  the 
conversation  runs — 

u  Sally,  I  love  you,"  says  Simon. 

u  Do  go  'long!"  replies  Sally. 

"  I  swow  to  man  I  do,"  insists  Simon. 

"  Now  leave  off  a-talking  sich  stuff,  you  Simon,"  retorts 
Sally. 

Perhaps  Simon  then  plucks  up  courage  and  kisses  his  Dulci- 
nea — perhaps  not,  according  to  the  amount  of  courage  he  hap- 
pens to  own.  Then  he  runs  off  to  the  rick,  and  she  to  the 
kitchen.  The  matter  is  not  much  thought  of  again  till  after 
tea ;  perhaps  the  "  old  folks"  have  gone  to  bed;  and  then,  while 
the  couple  are  sitting  at  least  five  yards  from  each  other,  Simon, 
after  a  long  silence,  with  his  eyes  riveted  on  the  toe  of  Sally's 
massive  bull-hide  shoe,  again  remarks — 

"  I  do  love  you,  Sally." 

"  How  you  keep  talkin',  Simon  !" 

"  I'd  like  dreadful  well  to  git  married." 

a  Ain't  you  well  ashamed  of  yourself,  Simon  ?" 

His  eyes  are  still  on  the  shoe. 

"  Why  there's  no  harm  in  that." 

u  I  never  heard  of  sich  a  tiling." 

"  Why  you  don't  mean  to  say  you're  a-goin'  to  be  an  old 
maid?" 

"  Not  a-purpose,"  says  Sally. 


272  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

"  "Well,  you  must  be  if  you  don't  accept  a  proposal?" 

"Yes,  I  know,  but— " 

"  But  you  don't  like  me  ?" 

"  Eh  ?"  says  Sally,  with  a  start. 

"  No,  you  like  somebody  else  better?" 

"It's  no  sich  thing." 

"  I  b'leve  you've  got  a  hankerin'  after  Peter  Colson  ?  I 
seed  you  look  after  him  the  t'other  day  out  of  the  spring-house 
winder  ?" 

"  Why,  Simon,  may  I  be  planted  if  you  ain't  a-gittin'  jelus !" 

"  Pshaw !  you  needn't  count  on  me  gittin'  jelus  about — " 

And  before  Simon  sees  proper  to  finish  the  sentence,  he  grows 
desperately  red  in  the  face,  and  all  at  once  goes  off  to  bed  in 
the  dark,  leaving  his  gawky  love  "  alone  in  her  glory"  with  a 
confused  regret  of  having  offended  the  "  poor  feller  \"  amid  which 
is  shadowed  the  knowledge  that  she  ought  to  conclude  darning 
the  heel  of  a  stocking  that  lias  been  in  an  imperfect  state  in  her 
work-box  for  some  w< 

The  following  day  Simon  sulks  whenever  he  sees  Sally,  and. 
Sally  grins,  to  the  exposure  of  her  box  of  ivories,  whenever  she 
meets  Simon.  The  next  day,  although  he  had  fully  made  up  his 
mind  that  he  would  not  speak  to  her  for  a  week,  he  has  to  ask 
her  "  where  ,thc  soap  is  ?"  and  then  she  relents  suddenly,  and 
says : — 

"  You  ain't  mad,  are  you,  Simon  ?" 

"  Don't  speak  to  me !"  replies  Simon,  with  an  attempt  at 
dignity,  which  is  so  thoroughly  rustic  and  unsuitcd  to  his  nature 
that  it  would  not  be  recognized  if  the  words  did  not  afford  some 
clue  to  the  expression. 

"  Why,  I  needn't  mean  any  harm." 

"  You're  crammed  full  of  conceit." 

"  Why,  Simon  !  now  thur,  Simon,  don't  be  a  fool,  Simon  !" 

This  is  said  with  the  purest  meaning,  but  the  swain  takes  ex- 
ception in  his  ardour  to  the  word  fool. 


AN   OHIO    WEDDING.  273 

"  Thur  you  go  agin — I'm  not  a  fool." 

"  I  mean  you're  sicli  a  goose  to  go  and  git  mad  about 
nothin' !" 

"  "Wasn't  you  in  airnest  ?" 

"  N-o-a,  Simon,  'pon  my  word." 

"  What  a  pump  I  was  !" 

An  immediate  approximation  of  lips  ensue  after  this  mutual 
unburdening  of  the  spirit,  and  the  matter  all  set  to  rights,  they 
jump  up  and  down  like  a  pair  of  fiddle-bows  in  a  finale  of  one  of 
Verdi's  noisiest  operas. 

Little  odds  and  ends  of  courtship  of  a  similar  character  occur 
after  the  above  style,  and  in  the  end  they  screw  up  their  courage 
to  become  "  bone  of  one  bone,  and  flesh  of  one  flesh." 

"We  will  adopt  a  different  tense,  and  follow  them  on  their  mat- 
rimonial pilgrimage — , 

"  Well  then,  we  shall  git  married  ?"  said  Simon. 

"  Jist  as  you  like,"  replied  Sally. 

"  Who  had  we  better  hire  to  do  it?" 

"  Well,  they  say  Squire  Brown's  as  cheap  as  anybody  around. 
Parson  Bertis  is  so  much  takin'  up  with  his  Injun  Mishunary 
S'ciety  that  he's  never  to  hire." 

"  Well,  I  s'pose  a  squire  kin  marry  as  well  as  a  minister.  Eb. 
Martin  was  married  by  a  squire,  and  he  was  a-tellm'  me  t'other 
day  how  him  and  Nance  never  hev  quar'led — that's  a  good 
sign." 

"  Shall  it  be  to-morrow  ?"  said  Sally. 

"  Ya-a-s !  we'll  start  early,  for  it's  a  good  step  over  to  the 
Squire's.  Now  mind  you  git  up  early,  and  hev  the  cows  milked 
in  time  !" 

The  next  morning,  long  before  the  most  impetuous  person 
could  expect  the  sun  to  look  over  the  western  horizon,  the  happy 
pair  were  bustling  in  the  gray  dawn,  hastening  their  morning 
labour,  and  saying  all  manner  of  queer  things  to  themselves 
about  the  approaching  event.     Sally  at  length  got  ready  to  start 


274  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

for  the  Squire's.  She  was  a  long,  gawky,  snub-nosed  girl,  and 
her  bridal-dress  consisted  of  an  enormous  flowered  sun-bonnet ; 
a  yellow  cotton  frock  ;  clean  tow  apron  ;  and  coarse  shoes,  with- 
out stockings.  Her  hair  looked  as  if  it  had  been  grabbed  sud- 
denly to  the  top  of  her  head,  and  then  flattened  out  for  the  sake 
of  ornament.  Instead  of  ear-rings  she  had  two  black  cherries 
on  one  stem  hung  over  each  ear ;  and  her  shoes  were  fastened 
with  bits  of  red  tape,  tied  in  convulsed  double-bows. 

Simon  had  a  square,  full-fed,  stupid  physiognomy,  with  lemon- 
coloured  eyebrows  and  light  hair.  He  was  barefoot  and  wore 
a  ten-cent  straw  hat,  pepper-and-salt  trowsers,  a  round  jacket  of  a 
snuff  tinge,  a  tablecloth-looking  shirt;  and  for  a  breast-pin, 
which  he  deemed  indispensable  on  so  important  an  occasion,  he 
had  crooked  a  large  pin  through  the  shank  of  a  broad  shiny  brass 
button,  on  which  was  emblazoned  the  head  of  some  very  ill-tem- 
pered brute.  This  was  stuck  in  his  bosom ;  and  when  the  ample 
folds  of  the  coarse  shirt-front  did  not  conceal  its  appearance,  it 
sparkled  in  the  early  sun:  fiercely. 

They  started  off  hand-in-hand  across  the  meadows,  over  fen 
and  through  the  fields,  by  way  of  taking  a  "near  cut;"  and  an 
hour's  brisk  walking  brought  them  to  the  door  of  the  Squire, 
at  which  they  knocked.  Sally  had  lost  one  of  her  fruit  ear-rings 
in  scaling  the  fences ;  and  the  lower  part  of  her  yellow  garment 
indicated  the  damp  state  of  the  fields  through  which  they  had 
passed.  Simon's  button  breast-pin  had  absented  itself  without 
leave ;  and  a  sly  bramble  had  scratched  his  great  toe  till  it  bled. 

They  paused  before  the  door. 

"  How  do  you  feel  ?"  said  Sally — u  I'm  all  in  a  pucker." 

"  Gittin'  married  's  mighty  delicate  work ;  and  considerin' 
I  never  tried  it  afore,  I'm  pretty  snug,  thank  you!;'  replied 
Simon. 

'•  My  patience,  Simon — you've  scratched  your  toe  !"  remark- 
ed Sally,  gazing  at  the  long-heeled  <;  pedestal"  of  her  future 
partner. 


AN   OHIO    WEDDING.  275 

"  I've  no  time  to  think  of  toes." 

The  tap  at  the  door  was  by  this  time  answered,  and  the  Squire's 
wife  stood  on  the  sill. 

"  Where's  the  Squire  V  asked  Simon. 

"  Wat's  wantin'  ?"  inquired  the  old  lady,  who  was  an  enor- 
mously inquisitive  old  creature. 

"  Me  and  her  wants  to  git  married,"  said  Simon. 

"  Ah — that's  all  right !  he's  at  the  barn,  unloading  some 
Straw,''  continued  the  old  lady. 

"  Kin  you  step  and  tell  him  to  come  round  ?  we're  in  some- 
thin'  of  a  hurry,"  inquired  the  bridegroom. 

"  I  know  he  wouldn't  be  disturbed  for  a  trifle.  You  better 
go  to  him,"  remarked  she.  "  Jist  keep  around  to  the  left;  then 
take  the  long  path,  and  you'll  see  the  barn." 

The  couple  did  as  they  were  directed,  and  found  the  Squire  on 
top  of  a  cart-load  of  straw,  with  his  sleeves  rolled  up,  and  the 
perspiration  oozing  from  his  countenance. 

"  Say,  Squire,  come  down ;  we  want  you  a  few  minnits !"  roared 
Simon. 

"  What's  up  ?"  bawled  back  the  Squire,  removing  his  hat  and 
passing  his  shirt  sleeve  over  his  brow. 

"  Sally  and  me  want  you  to  make  us  one." 

u  Can't  stop  till  I  finish  this  load,"  replied  the  Squire. 

"  Do — we're  in  a  hurry,"  exclaimed  Simon. 

"  Can't — no  use  of  talkin' ;  wouldn't  stop  now  to  marry  my 
father  !"  returned  the  Squire.  "  I'll  tell  you  how  you  can  make 
the  time  shorter  though — jump  up  here  and  help  me  to  un- 
load." 

"  Shall  I,  Sally  ?"  asked  Simon. 

"  Certin  !  anything  to  make  time  fly,"  replied  she. 

Seating  Sally  on  a  large  stone,  he  threw  off  his  wedding- 
jacket  and  bounded  to  t lie  top  of  the  cart.  The  mountain  of 
straw  gradually  lessened;  and  as  eaeli  sheaf  was  pitched  in  at 
the  large  barn-window,  the  Squire  asked  a  question — 


276  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

"  What's  your  surname  ?"  said  the  Squire. 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean  ?"  remarked  Simon. 

"  Your  last  name  ?" 

"Sittles!"   . 

"  And  your  hull  name  is  Simon  Sittles !" 

«  What's  your  age  ?" 

u  Twenty-five — goin'  on  twenty-six,  next  grass." 

"Where  do  you  live  ?" 

"  With  Amos  Barton.' 

"  Where  was  you  born  ?" 

u  At  Una,  Marion  County." 

"  Is  your  mother  livin'  ?" 

«  No." 

"  Nor  your  father,  nuther  ?" 

"  Ya-as — he's  a  fireman  on  a  steamboat  somcwhur  on  the 
Mississippi,  but  I'll  be  crowded  if  I  know  whur  I" 

" IIow  old  is  Sally?" 

"  Twenty-two." 

"  Is  Iter  parents  livin'  ?" 

"  She's  a  norphan." 

By  this  time  the  last  sheaf  was  u  housed,"  and  Simon  jumped 
from  the  cart,  and  resumed  his  jar-kr.f. 

"Lead  the  bride  here!1'  cried  the  Squire. 

Sally  ran  her  eye  up  and  down  her  dress,  to  see  that  it  was 
all  to  rights.  Simon  doffed  his  hat,  and  the  two  stood  behind 
the  cart  in  which  the  Squire  stooped. 

"  So  you  want  to  get  married,  eh  ?"  said  he  blandly  to  Sally. 

"  If  y — y — yeou  please,"  stammered  the  bride,  blushing  up 
to  the  roots  of  her  hair,  and  hanging  her  head. 

"  Do  you  think  it'll  be  good  for  you  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Guess  so  !"  said  the  maiden. 

"  Well  then,  look  up — that's  right — Woa  ! .  Bol*  (speaking 
to  the  horse) — jine  your  hands ;  but  stop — where's  your  wed- 
ding-ring ?" 


AN   OHIO   WEDDING.  277 

"  By  Hokey — I  forgot  that !"  and  a  cloud  passed  over  the 
face  of  the  candidate  for  matrimony,  which  the  Squire  per- 
ceived. 

"  Never  mind !  make  one  of  this  blade  of  grass — that'll  do 
jist  as  well  till  you  can  afford  to  buy  one."* 

A  blade  of  stiff  grass  was  made  as  circular  as  possible,  and 
the  bride  was  instructed  to  place  the  third  finger  of  the  left 
hand  in  it.     She  did  so,  and  the  Squire  proceeded — 

"  "Will  you  love  and  obey  this  man  ?" 

No  answer  returned,  when  the  Squire  said — 

"  I'm  speaking  to  you,  Miss  What-you-call-'em  5  will  you  love 
and  obey  this  man  ?" 

She  nodded  affirmatively. 

"You  must  not  nod  like  a  sunflower,"  said  the  Squire: 
"speak  out." 

■■'  Certainly  I  will,  then,"  replied  Sally. 

"  Will  you  protect  and  stick  to  this  woman  ?"  asked  the 
Squire. 

"  Through  thick  and  thin  !"  said  Simon  with  a  strong  em- 
phasis  on  "  thick." 

"  Will  you  always  be  true  to  her,  and  never  go  galivantm' 
about  after  other  wimmen  ?"  the  Squire  then  asked. 

"  Why  how  kin  you  ask  that  ?"  said  Simon,  apparently 
shocked. 

"  It's  part  of  the  form  and  service.  Hold  your  tongue,  and 
answer  the  question,  or  I'll  let  you  go  half-married  !" 

"Never!"  bellowed  Simon;  "I'll  be  as  true  to  her  as  the 
bud  to  the  blossom.", 

"  Ain't  you  got  baka  in  your  mouth?"  inquired  the  Squire. 

He  noticed  that  the  bridegroom  "  salivated"  oftener  than 
necessary. 

"  Yes — but  only  a  small  quid  I"  pleaded  Simon. 

"  Take  it  out,  sir  !  I  never  marry  a  man  with  backa  in  his 
mouth — it's  aginst  the  law." 


278  DASHES    OF    AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

Simon  disgorged  to  the  official's  satisfaction. 

"  That's  more  like  the  thing !"  proceeded  the  Squire,  waving 
a  handful  of  loose  straw  over  their  heads.  "  Now  as  the  clouds 
in  the  sky  and  the  boughs  of  the  tree  are  jined  to  one  another, 
so  do  I  pronounce  you  man  and  wife.  Kiss  the  bride,  and  fork 
over  a  dollar  and  a  half/* 

"  Gittin'  married  ain't  half  as  hard  as  I  thought  it  was  !"  said 
Sally  aside  to  Simon. 

"  Come  !  a  dollar  and  a  half  is  my  fee  !"  chimed  in  the  Squire. 

"  Can't  you  take  a  dollar  ?  money's  dreadful  skeerce,  and  it 
didn't  take  you  long  ?"  argued  Simon. 

"  Do  take  a  dollar,  Squire !"  remarked  Sally,  "  you  know 
Simon  helped  you  to  unload." 

"  Well,  considerin'  that,  hand  out  a  dollar,  and  I  am  satisfied." 

Simon  handed  over  a  dollar;  bound  up  his  wounded  toe; 
kissed  his  wife  ;  bid  adieu  to  the  Squire ;  and  walked  off  with 
Sally  on  his  arm,  as  happy  and  as  innocent  a  specimen  of  Ohio 
up  country  as  the  State  would  afford. 


279 


EGOTISM'S    LAST    SHIFT. 


"He'd  shake  hands  with  a  king  upon  his  throne, 
And  think  it  kindness  to  his  Majesty." 

Hallbck. 

Of  all  the  bores  (and  we  never  think  of  bores  without  asso- 
ciating the  name  of  Angus  Reach  with  them — not  that  Mr. 
Reach  is  a  bore,  but  his  analysis  of  the  characteristics  of  the 
class  was  so  delightfully  truthful)  that  infest  the  avenues  of 
society,  decidedly  the  most  wretched,  painful  and  forlorn,  is  the 
man  on  huge  terms  with  himself — that  sect  of  persons  who  are 
ever  overflowing  with  their  own  importance,  and  regaling  their 
conceit  by  pouring  into  one's  ear  at  every  point  some  matter 
indissolubly  connected  with  their  own  immediate  concerns.  "We 
can  pardon  a  moderate  amount  of  vanity  in  a  man  like  Julius 
Ccesar,  and  have  no  wish  to  see  genius  so  confusedly  modest  as 
to  shrink  like  a  sensitive  plant  when  it  is  approached ;  but  we 
do  object  to  hear  a  man's  tongue  perpetually  wagging  of  its 
owner,  when  there  is  so  much  else  in  the  world  to  claim  a  share 
of  its  action  :  it  shows  bad  taste,  want  of  judgment,  if  not  ill- 
brceding. 

"We  have  a  case  "  in  pint,"  as  the  old  settlers  say.  Mr. 
Coningsby  Calcutt  is  a  musician  and  an  author ;  writes  his  own 
words  and  sets  them  to  music  himself,  with  no  thanks  to  looking 
up  a  crabbed,  meddling  composer.  He  is  a  tall  young  man,  with 
a  vast  organization  of  whiskers,  Phrygian  cast  of  countenance, 
and  is  careful  never  to  be  out  of  a  change  of  neckcloths,  of  which 
he  claims  a  ken  most  mighty.     Coningsby  dresses  well,  has  an 


280  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

acceptable  circle  of  acquaintance,  shows  tact  in  society,  and, 
were  lie  not  so  overwhelmingly  in  love  with  his  own  abilities, 
would  really  be  a  pleasant  companion.  This  is  the  trouble.  He 
is  always  brimming  with  himself.  No  matter  what  hour  of  the 
day  you  meet  him — be  it  at  early  dawn,  before  the  dew  is  off  the 
grass,  or  late  at  night,  when  the  stars  rally  in  brilliant  array — 
it  is  all  the  same.  The  old  storj^  with  variations — myself! 
myself! !  myself! ! !  It  is  the  mania  of  self-complacency — the 
acme  of  egotism — the  topmost  pinnacle  of  imaginative  vanity. 

You  meet  him  in  the  Visitors'  Gallery  of  the  House  of  Com- 
mons, for  example,  while  an  eloquent  member  has  the  floor  on 
an  important  subject.  The  place,  the  time,  the  interest  felt  in 
the  debate — all,  one  reasonably  concludes,  would  operate  to 
make  him  silent.  But  in  vain  :  he  contrives  to  edge  in  a  few 
words  about  his  pet  subject?  You  strangely  encounter  him  at 
the  Opera — are  so  unfortunate  as  to  get  an  adjoining  seat  to  his 
in  the  pit — and  your  fate  is  sealed.  Every  aria  that  is  exe- 
cuted reminds  him  of  something  he  has  just  written  or  about  to 
write.  Not  Sontag's  delightful  voice  nor  the  impassioned  strains 
of  a  llceves  will  quiet  him  ;  and  in  the  end  you  have  either  to 
resign  your  place  aud  trust  to  the  chances  of  after-accommoda- 
tion, or  be  fretted  out  of  your  senses.  Possibly  you  are  over* 
hauled  by  him  as  you  are  quietly  stepping  into  the  cathedral 
door,  in  the  face  of  the  priest.  It  is  all  the  same  :  his  conver- 
sation retains  the  old  theme,  and  within  the  very  swing  of  the 
censer  he  chaunts  the  "  fabled  story  of  himself."  Those  who 
feel  an  interest  in  him — which,  by-the-way,  are  few — have  c  "n- 
trived  plans  to  get  him  married ;  but  he  could  not  slacken  his 
self-worship  long  enough  to  declare  an  affection  anywhere  else. 
His  pop  of  the  question  would  be  a  curiosity  worth  preserving 
among  the  archives  of  the  British  Museum — so  certain  would 
it  be  to  contain  an  episode  of  himself.  He  draws  pictures  of 
his  face,  writes  letters  a  la  Toots,  and  posts  them  to  his  own 
name,  and  it  is  said  has  registered  a  vow  to  refer  to  his  own 


egotism's  last  shift.  281 

talents  one  hundred  times  during  every  twenty-four  hours. 
The  vow,  by-the-way,  was  needless,  as  the  natural  inclination  of 
the  man  would  have  impelled  him  to  the  sworn  number  of 
allusions  without  the  necessity  of  an  abjuration. 

It  is  the  belief  of  those  who  know  him  intimately,  that  if  he 
felt  an  idea  struggling  for  existence  he  would  interrupt  Hamlet's 
moralizing  over  the  skull  of  Yorick,  or  li  button-hole"  a  bride- 
groom on  his  way  to  the  altar. 

Ego  et  rex  mens  was  attributod  to  Cardinal  TVolsey ;  and 
our  musical  friend  is  a  living  perpetuation  of  the  exclamation. 
Sheridan  and  George  Selwyn  are  said  to  have  possessed  the 
faculty  of  ridding  themselves  of  importunate  friends  by  the 
sharpness  of  their  wit ;  but  it  is  clear  they  had  no  Coningsby 
Calcutts  to  deal  vith.  Wit  the  most  trenchant,  and  satire  as 
barbed  as  a  javelin,  go  for  nothing  with  him. 

At  length  our  hero  found  a  shyness  affecting  his  friends. 
Good-natured  persons  that  he  had  bored  on  a  thousand  occasions 
put  their  gentleness  aside  and  boldly  excused  their  attention. 
Highly  amiable  }Toung  ladies  who  permitted  his  calls,  now  by 
some  remarkable  coincidence  were  never  "  at  home"  when  he 
looked  in.  It  was  evident  that  the  breeze  of  public  opinion 
was  shifting  to  his  peril. 

"  Never  mind,"  soliloquized  he,  while  arranging  the  hirsute 
verandah  beneath  his  nostrils.  "  This  sort  of  thing  is  all  very 
well.  It's  clear  everybody  is  jealous  of  me.  Young  ladies  are 
never  in  the  way — their  mammas  fear  the  ravishing  influence  of 
my  poetry  :  I  write  from  the  soul,  and  they  know  it.  The 
masculines  are  all  dying  with  envy  because  my  talents  are  too 
brilliant — that's  it,  without  doubt.  They  think  to  prevent  me 
launching  those  abilities  which  cause  me  to  shine  in  the  world 
of  genius ;  but  I'll  trick  them.  I'll  hire  an  audience  to  hear 
me  talk  of  no  one  but  myself — the  burden  of  my  theme  shall  be 
my  own  capabilities.  Yes,  I'll  do  it.  It  will  spite  those  who 
envy  me — those  who  are  longing  to  possess  my  energies  and 


282  DASHES    OF   AMERICAN    LiVIAOR. 

eminent  intellectual  advantages.  Brutus  was  jealous  of  Caesar, 
and  stabbed  him  in  consequence.  I  must  be  careful,  or  some- 
body will  poke  a  poignard  into  me  in  the  dark.  But  now  my 
self-soirees  will  do  away  with  the  possibility  of  assassination. 
I'll  pay  people  to  hear  me  talk,  and  stern  jealousy  will  not 
interfere  in  the  matter.     F m  resoiv 

Where  to  hold  these  "egotistic  re-unions"  was  the  next  ques- 
tion in  the  mind  of  their  projector,  and  soon  he  settled  on  his 
own  chambers.  His  chambers  would  be  better  than  anybody 
else's  chambers,  as  they  would  assist  to  carry  out  the  character 
of  the  design.  And  the  audience — this  was  the  most  important 
consideration  !  Persons  of  considerable  intellect  he  had  no 
doubt  could  be  empanelled  after  the  fashion  of  jurymen ;  or,  if 
this  failed,  there  was  in  a  large  metropolis  like  London  numbers 
of  needy  persons  who  would  have  no  objections,  for  a  small 
consideration,  to  share  the  sympathies  of  a  polemical  admirer  of 
genius.  The  census  list  indicated  a  return  of  hundreds  of  ex- 
cellent people  who  had  no  definite  plan  of  livelihood.  Many  of 
these  were  professional  men  without  practice — briefless  lawyers, 
publisherless  authors,  and  surgeons  whom  destiny  had  so  be- 
devilled as  to  prevent  them  from  ever  being  "called  in."  Of 
how  many  should  the  coterie  consist  ?  Say  nine,  the  number 
of  the  muses,  and  the  remarkable  unit  of  the  table  ;  nine  would 
be  a  comfortable  figure  to  manage  in  case  of  disputative  mutiny. 
Nine  was  tacitly  agreed  upon ;  and  he  then  caused  to  be  printed 
the  following  document : — 

"  Boast  Chambers. 
"  I,  Coningsby  Calcutt,  musician,  poet,  and  gentleman  of 
ancient  lineage,  having  descended  from  William  the  Conqueror, 
and  still  retaining  a  portion  of  that  ancient  monarch's  blood  in 
my  veins,  I  am  happy  to  state,  desire  to  form  a  coterie  consist- 
ing of  nine  intelligent  men,  who  will  assemble  once  every  week 
to  discuss  the  current  political,  social,  and  artistic  topics  of  the 
day,  and  look  upon  me  as  their  prime  minister  and  head  in  all 


283 

things  ;  for  which  accession  of  opinion  and  service,  I  will  pay 
one  shilling  per  meeting  (supper  and  malt  included). 

"  One  important  stipulation  must  be,  that  I  shall  talk  of 
myself  and  my  productions  ad  libitum^  and  that  the  most 
devoted  attention  will  he    paid  to  everything  I  may  advance. 

"  Snubbs,  sneers,  jeers,  or  fleers  not  to  be  indulged  in  on  any 
account ;  no  sly  winks,  or  laughing  in  the  sleeve,  if  my  per- 
sonal comparisons  be  strong.  Though  I  were  to  class  myself 
in  eloquence  with  Socrates,  in  knowledge  a  Bacon,  in  courage 
equal  to  a  Spartan  leader,  and  swear  my  virtues  are  purer  than 
were  Agricola's,  the  inference  must  be  gravely  endorsed  at  the 
peril  of  a  forfeit.  No  prediction  is  to  be  contradicted,  no 
caprice  denied. 

"  When  a  member  has  found  a  more  profitable  mode  of 
spending  his  time,  a  week's  notice  will  be  required  ;  when  he 
can  retire  by  bestowing  a  mighty  compliment  on  the  '  Prime 
Minister'  and  treating  the  remaining  members  with  a  pot  of 
half-and-half  each. 

"  John  Tobin  and  Halleck  never  to  be  quoted,  for  reason  of 
certain  opinions  they  have  irreverently  expressed  in  certain 
poems,  which  by  no  means  meet  my  approbation. 

"  Notice. — I  enclose  the  above   hasty  circular  to  of 

.     Will  he  consent  to  become  a  member  at  the  above 

specified  terms,  bearing  in  mind  the  stipulated  conditions  ?  An 
immediate  answer  will  oblige." 

Now  to  whom  should  these  circulars  be  addressed  ?  He  over- 
turned his  card-basket,  and  ransacked  his  memory.  Finally,  he 
could  muster  twelve  idle,  intelligent,  careless  people,  nine  of 
whom  would  be  glad  to  pick  up  a  trifle  provided  there  was  no 
labour  to  be  accomplished.  He  folded  the  dozen,  and  directed 
them  ;  in  due  time  replies  were  returned,  and  exactly  nine  of 
the  twelve  accepted  the  overtures.  It  was  an  easy  way  of 
earning  the  fractional  part  of  a  pound,   to  say  nothing  of  a 


284  DASHES    OF    AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

moderate  supper,  an  amusing  display  of  egotism,  and  the  tolerant 
sacrifice  of  an  evening's  sentiment. 

Coningsby  Calcutt  is  therefore  happy.  He  holds  his  levees 
as  often  as  his  purse  permits,  and  rattles  away  to  pensioned 
sycophants  at  one  shilling  per  head.  He  declares  it  the  cheapest 
and  most  certain  method  of  commanding  attention  ;  for  no  one 
is  so  rash  as  to  blight  any  fair  flower  of  speech  he  may  have 
the  hardihood  to  create.  Paid  attention  is  better  than  free 
neglect,  in  his  opinion,  though  Coningsby 's  vanity  ia  evidently 
on  its  last  legs. 


285 


AMERICAN  VvrATERING  PLACES. 


"Watering-places  in  the  United  States — like  birds — differ 
somewhat  in  species.  If  an  aristocracy  is  observable,  it  will  be 
found  in  the  summer  lounges,  where  the  patricians  seem  to 
brush  up  their  sense  of  republican  hauteur,  though  they  may  lay 
it  aside  on  again  entering  metropolitan  brick-and-mortar.  Why 
a  trip  into  the  green  avenues  of  nature  should  invoke  a  latent 
or  artificial  dignity — as  the  case  may  be — we  arc  denied  the 
knowledge ;  though  certain  it  is  that  foliage  and  folly  in  this 
respect  seem  to  go  hand-in-hand.  We  have  known  very  indus- 
trious, kind-hearted,  innocent  men  at  home  to  "  change  in  a 
single  night" — like  Byron's  Prisoner  of  Chillon — to  mere 
human  lumps  of  starch,  with  a  ponderousness  of  self-complacency 
truly  alarming.  They  squinted  over  their  cravats,  and  contracted 
their  optics,  till,  poor  things,  they  seemed  lamenting  a  perspec- 
tive ophthalmic  operation,  and  fretted  secretly  in  consequence. 

Like  the  British  railway-carriage,  we  must  divide  the  water- 
ing-places of  America  into  three  classes — first,  second,  and  third. 
The  first  class  includes  a  variety  of  mineral  springs,  rusty  mai- 
sons,  leafy  alcoves,  and  sequestered  mountain  retreats,  in  various 
states  remarkable  only  for  being  extremely  out  of  the  way,  and 
consequently  never  popular  with  the  million.  This  delightful 
fact  is  seized  upon  by  the  soi-disant  aristocracy,  who,  tickled 
out  of  their  wits  to  think  they  have  found  spots  where  the 
"vulgar  creatures"  never  go,  box  up  their  kids,  and  whistle 
their  spaniels  off  to  perhaps  the  most  isolated,  cheerless  dens 
that  could  well  be  imagined.     This  is  the  violent,  purse-proud 


286  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

class,  who,  with  a  genealogical  notion  tainting  their  minds  that 
they  descend  from  some  blundering  old  swag-bellied  baron,  or 
perhaps,  when  abroad,  were  entertained  at  dinner  by  a  civil 
English  nobleman,  take  it  into  their  heads  to  make  laughing- 
stocks  of  themselves  by  a  perpetual  exclusivencss  ;  the  only  good 
coming  from  which  is,  that  general  society  is  but  little  distressed 
by  their  tyrannical  assumptions.  The  most  poignant  trouble 
this  class  seem  to  have  is  to  find  people  as  good  as  themselves 
with  whom  to  associate ;  and  their  whole  life  is  expended  in  one 
protracted  regret  that  nature  does  niddenly  fastidious, 

and  bring  into  the  world  only  such  supremely  delightful  people 
as  the  bleared  approval  of  their  taste  may  endor 

The  second  class  come  under  the  head  of  what  is  called  in  New- 
York  the  "  cod-fish  aristocracy,"  or  butterflies  of  Japonicadom. 
These  infest  during  the  summer  months  such  places  as  Saral 
Newport,  Sharon  Springs,  Niagara,  Lake  George,  and  the  White 
Mountains.  Without  the  absurd  superciliousness  of  the  classe 
premiere)  they  have  their  idl  -  of  dignity,  and  peculiar 

ideas  of  life,  all  of  which  they  bring  into  full  play  the  moment 
they  leave  home.  The  heads  of  such  families  are  most  generally 
harmless  old  gentlemen,  who,  after  a  long  life  of  servitude  to 
the  desk,  have  realized  fortunes  :  lations  in  the  staples 

of  commerce,  or  been  favoured  by  the  blind  goddess  in  the 
department  of  Consols  and  Three-per-Cents.  But  though  their 
nasals  may  be  very  high  in  the  air,  the  second-classcrs  are  not 
positively  enclosed  in  a  magic  circle.  There  is  still  a  hiatus 
which  can  be  entered;  and  once  within  the  limits,  fair  treatment 
can  at  least  be  looked  for  without  apprehension  of  disappoint- 
ment. Here,  too,  we  find  match-making  mammas  with  their 
daughters,  manoeuvring  chaperons,  young  gentlemen  of  leisure 
just  from  an  Italian  tour,  mousing  bachelors  of  moderate  incomes, 
in  white  cravats  and  brown  wigs,  superannuated  fops,  fist  young 
men  of  reputed  property,  promising  middle-aged  lawyers,  divines 
of  flowered  and  budding  reputation,  and  in  short,  all  the  elements 


AMERICAN   WATERING   PLACES.  287 

of  what  in  reality  form  the  better  class  of  the  various  cities  of 
the  Union.  Here  and  there  may  be  observed  an  author  who  has 
made  a  hit,  a  newspaper  correspondent  of  a  fashionable  gazette, 
and  once  in  a  great  while  a  second-rate  star  in  the  dramatic  hem- 
re,  who,  having  for  half-a-dozen  years  continued  to  get  his 
name  in  large  letters  on  the  bills,  has  clustered  a  few  dollars, 
started  forth  with  his  eminence  as  a  passport,  in  the  hope 
that  society  will  honour  it  with  a  visec. 

The  third-class  watering-places  are  the  few  days'  enjoyment  of 
men  about  town,  shopmen,  storekeepers,  the  odds-and-ends,  the 
anybodies  and  nobodies  of  society — people  who  have  just  time  to 
take  a  "  little  run"  and  back,  as  if  they  were  in  pursuit  of  a  credi- 
tor, and  anxious  to  hurry  home  with  some  intelligence  either  good 
or  otherwise.  The  very  best  of  this  order,  and  almost  escaping 
the  classification,  were  it  not  for  its  proximity  to  two  important 
Atlantic  cities,  and  the  extreme  cheapness  of  the  conveyance, 
superinduced  through  enterprising  rivalry  by  unmitigated  steam- 
boat companies,  is  Cape  May.  The  very  bottom  of  the  list 
would  be.  perhaps,  Coney  Island,  near  metropolitan  New- York, 
which  is  during  a  short  season  of  two  months  as  grotesque  a  spot 
as  could  well  be  conceived  in  any  part  of  the  world.  This  lat- 
ter place  is  one  sought  for  a  piece  of  reckless  fun — where 
toilettes  are  neglected,  shirt-collars  worn  or  not,  just  as  the  indi- 
vidual may  choose,  and  where,  seemingly,  everybody  is  deter- 
mined to  be  gay  or  frivolous,  rakish  or  violent,  just  as  the  whim 
may  strike  him.  There  are  no  upper  or  lower  strata  here.  The 
"  one-person-as-good-as-another"  doctrine  is  enforced  to  the  let- 
ter, and  airs  are  punished  with  the  same  promptitude  that  the 
knout  is  brought  into  Russian  requisition  when  the  Czar  feels 
himself  piqued.  Here  there  must  be  no  cloudy  ideas  of  superi- 
ority, or  creakiness  of  tread ;  it  offends  the  bail-fellows  well  met, 
and  these  are  perilous  people  to  excite.  Their  very  i_r;;i<  tv  is 
danger  here;  and  hence  it  follows  that  a  certain  jaunty  loose- 
ness of  equality  is  the  reigning  characteristic  which  every  comer 
must,  and  is  usually  willing  to  fall  in  with. 


288  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

To  better  illustrate  the  local  distinctions  of  the  society  of  the 
three  sub-divisions,  let  us  present  the  reader  with  an  outline 
sketch  of  each  component : — 

I. 

The  "  blood  of  all  the  Howards''  inspire  us  !  AVe  have  a 
duty  before  us,  the  daintiness  of  which  would  make  point-lace 
flutter,  and  cause  the  pa; terns  on  Singapore  cashmere  to  dilate 
with  dread.  Walk  now,  sans  angularity  !  and  tread  with  a 
speciality  of  step,  to  indicate  your  1  needing.  Let  your  mou- 
choir  be  true  cambric,  and  consistently  :   and  your  dia- 

dems real.  Give  way  to  plush  ;  damn  practical  republicanism  ; 
talk  of  your  crest;  and  keep  your  neighbours  at  a  distance. 
We  feel  ourselves  aide  to  I  lie  task,  and  a  drawing-room  door  opens 
invitingly  to  us.     But  stop — where  are  \ 

At  Shakspeeta  ! 

Where  on  earth  is  So  LKSPERIA  ? 

A  select  covey  of  the  birds  of  adorable  plum.".  -sued 

stock,  and  jointly  constructed  a  series  of  villas,  and  formed  a 
fashionable  town,  exclush  ely  for  their  own  entertainment.  They 
have  purchased  the  ground  for  the  area  of  a  mile,  and  laid  out 
parks,  drives,  promenades  and  lounges,  on  which  ordinary  flesh 
and  blood  must  by  no  mean.-  The  stock  is  owned  by 

recognized  breeding — people  who  have  that  in  their  veins  that 
will  stand  the  test  of  analysis]  Every  purchaser  must  receive 
the  approving  stamp  of  at  least  two-thirds  of  the  club  of  direc- 
tors, and  by  this  refinement  of  precaution  no  dreadful  wolf  of  a 
parvenu  gains  access  to  the  select  fold.  Contented  luxuriousness 
floats  in  the  atmosphere,  and  little  cherubs  in  sky-blue  tunics 
serve  as  hall-porters. 

We  have  called  the  place  Shakseekia  ;  and  each  tiny  thor 
oughfare  is  christened  after  male  characters  in  the  plays  of  the 
immortal  bard.  The  feminine  names,  from  a  capricious  sense 
of  respectful  condescension,  apply  to  the  residences.     In  fine,  as 


AMERICAN    WATERING   PLACES.  289 

will  be  seen,  Siiaksperia  ia  a  spot  of  fashionable  fancy,  where 
the  severely- verified  may  move  in  a  sphere  of  their  own  creation, 
and  feel  remote  from  the  intrusion  of  common-place  vital ity, 
that  they  hold  incompatible  with  the  happiness  of  human  exist- 
ence. 

Let  us  step  into  the  salon  of  Ophelia  Terrace.  It  is  a  small 
apartment,  appointed  in  a  style  of  elaborate  elegance.  Every 
article  of  furniture  contains  a  pithy  saying  of  the  play,  from 
which  the  character  is  taken  that  denominates  the  house.  The 
chair-backs  are  eloquent  in  sententiousness ;  the  velvet  of  the 
conversaziones  blush  an  expression  of  philosophy;  the  fringe 
of  the  music-stool  falls  gracefully  beneath  a  line  familiar  to  the 
world  ;  while  the  mirror-frame  breaks  into  a  reflective  sentence 
that  has  caused  scholars  to  marvel  at  the  genius  that  gave  it 
birth.  On  a  column  of  veined  marble,  in  a  niche  prepared  ex- 
pressry  for  its  reception,  is  a  bust  of  the  Bard  of  Avon — not 
the  delicate,  tapering,  spirituelle  cast  commonly  found  at  the 
image- vendors,  but  a  copy  of  the  veritable  bust  in  the  chancel  of 
Stratford  Church — a  substantial  head,  without  unseemly  angles, 
and  rounding  into  a  dainty  double-chin  of  episcopal  conform- 
ation. Suspended  by  silken  cords  on  the  richly-papered  walls 
are  two  pictures  of  celebrated  actresses,  in  the  character  of 
Ophelia;  while  over  the  mantel  is  a  delicious  crayon  of  the 
aforesaid  young  lady,  evidently  copied  from  a  series  of  the  hero- 
ines of  Shakspeare,  and  really  executed  with  groat  taste.  A 
number  of  Swiss  views,  a  steel  engraving  of  the  Castle  of  Chil- 
lon,  and  a  few  books  scattered  over  a  pretty,  bright,  walnut 
chirFonnier,  complete  the  most  noticeable  features  of  the  apart- 
ment. 

A  merry  laugh  was  heard  in  the  ante-room,  and  then  a 
mingling  of  voices.  The  next  moment  the  door  opens,  and  a 
group  of  three  ladies  and  two  gentlemen  enter,  and  dispose 
themselves  about  the  apartment. 

A  smooth-faced,  Cologne-bottle  looking  young  man,  habited 


290  DASHES    OF    AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

in  a  suit  of  black,  with  a  bunch  of  charms  hanging  to  a  most 
elaborate  watchchain,  and  a  mustache  that  assumes  a  change- 
able aspect  in  every  point  of  light  it  is  viewed,  with  a  gait 
between  a  crawl  and  a  walk,  at  length  contrives  to  seat  himself 
on  a  lounge.  His  vis-d-v/s  is  a  blooming  young  lady  with  very 
blue  eyes,  the  beauty  of  which  she  seems  to  be  aware  of,  as 
young  ladies  generally  are,  by  the  way. 

"Ada,  you've  no  idea  of  the  magnificence  of  the  Alps," 
remarks  the  dandy,  in  continuation  of  a  conversation  they 
seemed  to  have  had  before  entering ;  '•  next  to  Niagawa  Falls 
they're  the  sweetest  things  I  ever  gazed  on." 

'-I  should  so  like  to  go  to  Switzerland,  Bluette!1'  observes 
the  young  lady,  with  almost  a  sigh;  "  Pa  h  promising 

to  take  us  ever  since  we  return  .  but  mamma  thinks 

the  journey  will  affect  Hector's  health,  and  she  won't  hear  of 
leaving  him  behind." 

"  How  howwid  !" 

Mr.  Bluette,  among  oth<  r  accomplishments,  has  a  fashionable 
habit  of  converting  the  -  f  variety,     lie 

is  not  a  resident  of  Shaksperia,  but  a  New- York  exquisite  on  a 
visit  to  the  Dadlevs  by  i  \  itation. 

"Do  you  think  that  your  mamma  would  consent  to  go,  if 
Hector  was  not  in  the  way?'*  inquires  he. 

u  I'm  confident.     IsnM  it  too  bad,  dear  Bluette?" 

"  "Why  will  you  make  me  so  happy  by  calling  me  Dear?" 
says  the  beau,  toying  with  an  owl  with  pink  eyes  on  his  chate- 
leine.  "  You're  a  provoking  chawming  creature  to  do  it — that 
you  awe !'' 

"  Fie  !  Mr.  Bluette  !;"  simpers  :'■ 

Hector,  the  reader  will  be  so  kind  as  to  remember,  is  a  little 
pampered,  plump,  long-eared  poodle,  on  whom  Mrs.  Dadlcy 
seems  to  have  centred  her  entire  affections. 

"  I've  an  idea,  Ada  dearest  !"  remarks  Bluette;  "  I  should 
like  to  coax  your  papa  to  visit  Geneva  next  summer.     I'm 


AMERICAN    WATERING    PLACES!  291 

going  with  Lady  Fanny  Bracelet,  who  is  now  making  a  tour  in 
the  South ;  and  when  she  returns,  if  we  could  arrange  it  to 
all  go  together,  'twould  he  delicious  I" 

"  How  charming  !     0  that  provoking,  naughty  Hector  !" 

"  My  deaw  cweature,"  says  Bluette,  with  more  energy  than 
he  usually  managed  to  infuse  into  his  conversation  ;  "  I'll  do  a 
despewate  action.  Don't  be  alawmed,  now — Hector  shall  no 
longer  be  an  obstacle  to  your  happiness." 

"  Good  gracious  !  Bluette,  what  do  }'ou  mean  ?■" 

"  Never  mind,  deaw — depend  on  me,  and  next  summer  sees 
us  in  Geneva." 

Miss  Ada  is  just  in  that  particular  state  that  young  ladies 
will  sometimes  get  in.  She  does  not  know  whether  it  is  better 
for  her  to  remain  silent,  or  prosecute  her  inquiries  further. 
Satisfied,  however,  that  ':  dear  Bluette"  could  do  nothing  very 
rash,  she  bestows  a  glance  of  sympathy  on  her  admirer,  and  is 
about  to  go  off  into  a  sweeping  denunciation  of  animal  pets, 
when  her  mamma  approaches  her. 

"  Ada,  dear !"  remarks  Mrs.  Dadley,  bearing  the  doomed 
canine  in  her  arms,  and  speaking  in  a  low  tone,  "  Can't  you 
entertain  us  with  a  piece?  Hist!  Hector  is  almost  asleep, 
and  a  little  music  would  so  put  his  nerves  to  rights.  Oh,  Mr. 
Bluette,  would  you  believe  that  a  ferocious  tom-cat  nearly  slew 
my  beauty  this  morning !  He's  been  quivering  like  a  leaf  ever 
since,  poor  dear  !     Come,  Ada,  darling  S" 

u.  Now,  Mamma,  how  can  you  ask  me?  You  know  Dr.  Mor- 
tem said  my  bronchia  was  in  a  perfect  blister.     Now,  Mam-ma  !" 

u  I'm  certain  just  one  song  won't  affect  it.     Dear  little  I 
tor  will  be  so  thankful!"  urged  Airs.  Dadley. 

"  Hang  Hector  !"  thought  the  young  lady,  and  it  is  most 
probable  she  would  have  urged  her  ,  had  not  Bluette  in 

a  soft  voice  seconded  the  request  in  her  car. 

"  Now,  Mamma,"  said  she,  approaching  the  tabouret  with  an 
affected  ennui.  "  This  is  cruel,  when  you  know  the  condition 
of  my  throat.     Dear  me  !  what  shall  I  sing?" 


2&2  DASHES    OF   AMERICAN    IJU.MOIt. 

"  That  pretty  thing  from  Si  fetais  fim"  suggests  Mrs. 
Quiggles  in  a  patronizing  tone.  u-  I  heard  it  in  Paris  last  year 
— one  of  Adam's  sparkling  efforts." 

"  By  Adam,  did  you  say,  Mrs.  Quiggles  ?  Good  gracious  ! 
Low  primitive  it  must  be  !"'  drawls  Bluette.  "  Not  to  be  face- 
tious at  all,  may  I  ask  is  the  plot  laid  in  the  Garden  of  Eden?" 

"  Really,  Mr.  Bluette,  how  shocking  I'1 

u  Yes,  I'm  aware — but  I  never  knew  before  that  Adam  was 
a  musician,  though  I  always  supposed  that,  like  most  other 
ladies,  Eve  sung." 

"  Sifitdis  Hoi  is  over  at  Florence's.  Kate  wanted  to  show 
it  to  Georgiana  Bradford,  and  '  Hermione  Lodge'  is  in  quite  a 
furore  about  it,11  remarks  Ada. 

"  For  my  part,  I  could  never  tire  of  the  ■  bolero'  from 
Joanita  :  it's  a  great  pet  of  mine,  and  little  Hector  always 
seems  to  like  it,*'  says  Mrs.  Dadley. 

"  The  serenade  from  Don  Pasquale  is  my  standing  favorite," 
observes  Mr.  Hooper,  a  rich  Wall-street  stockbroker — cold, 
cunning,  and  merciless  on  'Change.  He  would  be  called  a 
"trinket"  of  society  instead  of  an  aoroam< 

<•  I'm  weak  enough  to  weport  in  favour  of  a  plain  ballad," 
cries  Bluette,  toying  with  the  third  finger  of  his  left-hand 
lavender  kid  glove. 

"  Good  gracious  !  Mr.  Bluette  !"  cries  everybody,  save  Ada, 
"  where  is  your  taste?     Dreadful !" 

"  Lady  Bracelet  assured  me  in  Xew-York  that  they  are 
again  growing  very  populaw  in  England.  "When  I  take  up  my 
flute,  which  is  very  seldom,  I  always  toot  the  tunes  and  sing 
the  words  to  myself." 

A  subdued  laugh  around  the  apartment. 

Ada  at  length  hits  upon  a  song,  which  she  sings  with  consid- 
erable taste  and  expression.     It  is  one  from  Dickens's  Bleak 
House,  by  Jeffreys,  of  London,  and  flows  gracefully  to  a  melody 
by  Glover.     Everybody  is  delighted  with  its  charm i 
city  and  sweetness. 


AMERICAN    WATERING    PLACES.  293 

"  Bravo  !"  cries  Mr.  Hooper. 

"  Very  fair  !"  exclaims  mamma,  observing  that  it  has  had  a 
drowsy  effect  upon  her  fat  fondling. 

"  Quite  admissible  !"  says  Mrs.  Quiggles  condescending!}-,  who 
is  a  stickler  for  the  French  compositions.  She  adores  Auber ; 
and  thinks  Halvey  a  second  Mozart. 

"  Consummate  !*'  drawls  Bluette.  The  delivery  of  the  word 
occupies  at  least  thirty  seconds,  and  almost  overpowers  him. 

When  Ada  resumes  her  seat,  Bluette,  who  has  been  reading 
his  aunt's  common-place  book,  strolls  off  into  a  strain  as  to 
what  we  are  indebted  to  accident,  and  contends  that  Pythagoras 
owed  the  invention  of  music  to  the  sound  of  a  blacksmith's 
hammer. 

"  Are  there  many  balls  talked  of  in  New- York  next  season  ?" 
inquired  Ada. 

"  I've  not  heard  of  but  ten,  and  two  of  those  are  to  be  masque" 

"How  delightful  P5 

u  I  shall  go  as  a  nobleman  of  the  court  of  Louis  XIV." 

••  And  I  as  a  debar  clew;  changing  to  a  sister  of  charity.  I 
like  the  lights  and  shadows  in  a  ball-room." 

"  I  shant't  change — it's  such  a  bore." 

Ada  is  pretty  and  piquant  t  without  being  decidedly  beautiful. 
She  is  always  Men  diaussee,  corflee,  and  that  is  saying  consider- 
able for  girls  in  America.  It  is  evident  that  Bluette  is  some- 
what captivated,  for  he  just  dropped  a  "  love-tinged"  remark  in 
a  low  tone,  which  of  course  wc  shall  not  be  so  inconsiderate 
as  to  repeat. 

Miss  Quiggles  and  Mr.  Hooper  are  still  talking  of  music, 
though  the  gentleman  dues  not  know  a  flat  from  a  sharp,  except 
he  were  severely  tested  in  a  business  capacity.  Mrs.  Quigg 
without  a  musical  education,  has  been  twice  to  Paris,  and  at- 
tended the  opera  in  various  parts  of  the  world,  because  it  was 
fashionable  to  do  so.  She  lias  a  vague  notion  that  the  French 
composers  are  the  authors  of  every  great  work  produced ;  and 


294  DASHES    OF    AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

consequently  talks  freely  of  Auber's  "Norma;"  hopes  that 
Grisar-will  live  to  write  another  opera  as  clever  as  his  ';  Som- 
nambula;"  builds  great  expectation  in  Halevy,  as  he  was  the 
author  of  the  "  Prophete  ;"  and  regrets  that  Adolph  Adam  does 
not  endeavour  to  rival  his  own  efforts  in  another  '/  Don  Gio- 
vanni." Mr.  Hooper  knowing  little  out  of  his  Pactolian  sanctum, 
listens  to  all  these  errors  in  blissful  ignorance,  and  quite  agrees 
with  Mrs.  Q.  in  all  of  her  views,  operatic  and  otherwise. 

Mrs.  Dadley  is  holding  forth  on  the  shades  of  several  pieces 
of  ribbon  she  has  purchast  d  to  adorn  her  pet's  neck,  and  ex- 
pressing herself  very  disrespectfully  of  one  William  Shakspeare, 
because  he  said  "  Physic  to  the  dogs  !"'  it  being  her  opinion  that 
calomel  and  curs  were  never  intended  for  each  other. 

Bluette  dawdling  from  the  hal  masque  co>.  \t  touches 

on  Byron,  and  thinks  that  Childe  Harold,  Manfred,  and  the 
various  heroes  he  created,  were  all  very  well,  but  that  a  single 
remark  he  made  in  one  of  his  letter.-  surpasses  anything  lie  ever 
said  or  did. 

"  What  was  that,  Bluette?"  inquires  Ada. 

"He  though;  30tt  a  vewy  gweat  cweature,  and  longed 

to  get  '  tight'  with  him." 

II. 

The  people  that  we  are  constrained  to  call  the  "  second  class- 
ers"  will  feel  themselves  highly  provoked  at  the  classification; 
but  as  there  is  no  help  for  it,  we  must  endure  their  anger,  and 
allons.  We  are  forced  to  rank  them  thus,  because  with  their 
aristocratic  pretensions,  there  is  still  that  absence  of  severe  ex- 
clusiveness  that  draws  the  line  creating. the  division.  Saratoga, 
Newport,  and  Niagara,  are  all  famous  in  their  way.  Little  is 
done  beyond  dancing,  dining,  bathing,  and  dressing.  People  go 
here — at  least  there  is  a  tacit  understanding  that  such  is  the 
case — for  recreation  and  quietude.  Of  recreation,  human  nature 
seems  to  differ.     What  is  one  man's  bane  is  another's  beatitude. 


AMERICAN    WATERING   PLACES.  295 

"We  are  inclined  to  regard  the  American  watering  places  as  social 
conventions,  where  people  from  all  parts  of  the  country  unite  to 
kill  time  in  whatever  mode  may  most  agree  with  the  temper  of 
the  parties  in  question. 

Newport  is  the  nc  plus  ultra  of  the  second  order  of  fashion- 
ables. It  is  looked  forward  to  and  talked  of  by  the  beauties  all 
winter.  '•  Our  next  season  at  Newport"  is  a  consolatory  phrase 
calculated  to  allay  griefs  and  banish  sorrow.  The  last  part  of 
June — when  the  opera  managers  are  announcing  their  last  nights, 
and  gay  young  gentlemen  are  seen  in  white  paletots  in  the 
parks — finds  the  pleasure-seekers  on  the  wing.  The  "  Ocean 
House''  is  a  scene  of  confusion  from  morning  till  night.  Stout 
old  gentleman  with  wife  and  three  daughters  in  travelling  dresses, 
worn  out  with  the  heat,  come  tumbling  into  the  great  hall,  met 
by  a  black  servant  who  pokes  a  register  under  the  aforesaid  old 
gentleman's  nose  before  he  has  yet  got  off  his  gloves.  Now 
arrives  a  knot  of  young  bloods  from  New-York  city,  the  major 
portion  of  whom  are  walking  canes  and  hah* — not  forgetting  the 
omnipresent  seal  rings.  Ah !  don't  they  intend  to  play  hob 
with  the  hearts  of  the  belles,  provided  they  have  any  hearts  to 
be  tortured.  Sombre  bachelors,  dashing  widows,  regular  Lady 
Clay  Spankers,  buxom  and  buoyant,  marriageable  daughters,  and 
just  married  daughters — for  honey-moons  are  spent  here  by  im- 
pulsive couples  who  wish  to  plunge  into  a  whirl  from  the  mo- 
ment the  knot  is  tied — all  converse  and  become  acquainted,  or 
move  in  cliques  to  frown  down  on  their  neighbours,  just  as  it 
happens. 

The  attempt  to  keep  up  a  fashionable  character  arid  appear- 
pearance  of  ton  does  not  only  last  for  a  few  days  and  then  grad- 
ually evaporate.     They  do  not  arrive  with  a  frown  and  u.  ; 
with  a  giggle.     The  ladies  from  the  first  look  well  to  their 
toilettes.     European  travellers  call  them  phantoms  of  P 
but  let  th     i  yalpne  for  getting  up  appearances 

when  the  I  them.     They  may  not  have  as  many 


296  dashes  of  American  humor. 

fringes  as  a  high-bred  dame  of  the  Rue  de  la  Paix,  or  assume 
as  much  lace  as  a  Neapolitan  songstress.  Neither  will  the  hair 
be  as  artistically  dressed  as  if  done  by  a  Boulevard  hair-drt 
or  as  many  velvet  knicknackcries  about  the  skirt  as  a  London 
belle  would  contrive  to  attach  ;  yet  with  these  absent  adorn- 
ments we  can  bespeak  for  them  a  '-goodlic  presence." 

The  bathing  periods  of  the  da}'  at  the  American  watering 
place  present  rather  a  novel  feature.  The  beach  for  perhaps  a 
mile  is  skirted  with  small  iil-shapen  dressing-houses  used  during 
the  season,  and  standing  all  winter  like  a  row  of  bleak,  gloomy 
sentinels  as  forlorn  as  Savoyard  packmen.  At  eleven  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  a  number  of  sunburnt  women  in  crumpled  old 
bonnets  and  careless  costume,  are  hurrying  from  one  house  to 
another  with  baskets  of  towels  and  armloads  of  bathing-dn 
which  they  distribute  with  surprising  celerity.  Soon  after, 
groups  of  most  fancifully  people  will  be  seen  emerging 

and  plunging  into  the  white  foam  of  the  surf,  disporting  with 
the  billows,  and  kicking  the  waves  head-over-heels  in  a  manner 
enough  to  make  old  Neptune,  or  Venn  iect  committee 

of  Amphitl  from  their  dripping  mansion,  and  politely 

request  that  such  vagaries  with  the  water  be  instantly  discon- 
tinued. 

The  spectacle  is  really  a  curious  one.  There  are  five  hundred 
bathers  dressed  in  every  shade  and  variety  of  color — blue  tunics 
over  yellow  trowsers,  crimson  coats  with  mulberry  overha 
moon-tinted  pantaloons  with  jackets  of  purple.  No  carnival 
ever  presented  so  wild  and  grotesque  a  medley.  Rome!  aban- 
don thy  laurels ;  and  Venice  !  hide  with  shame  in  thy  own 
gondolas ;  for  ye  never  produced  so  bewildering  a  saturnalia  of 
costume!  Keeping,  consistency  and  harmony  are  sacrificed 
The  very  fishes  must  waggle  their  little  speckled  tails  in  curious 
admiration,  and  the  sun,  ik  the  great  orb  itself,'1  seems  to  wonder 
what  is  going  on,  that  man  (and  woman)  kind  have  thrown  off 
the  garb  of  common  sense  to  revel  in  the  motley  habiliments  of 
agonized  fancy. 


.AMERICAN    WATERING    PLACES.  297 

To  see  long  troops  of  fifty  and  a  hundred  bathers  all  plunge 
in  the  boiling  surf  hand  in  hand  is  an  exciting  picture.  The 
waves  dash  over  their  bright  dresses,  and  the  next  moment  they 
appear  dripping  like  sea  deities  after  an  elemental  Waterloo. 
This  hydro-frolic  is  immense  fun  for  the  young  people,  espe- 
cially when  a  timid  companion  shows  a  weak  point  in  the  water. 
How  they  shriek  when  their  mouths  fill  with  brine,  or  leap  to 
the  rescue  if  the  strong  waves  should  carry  one  from  his  feet ! 
Some  one's  hat  is  floating  yonder  on  the  waters,  one  moment 
dancing  on  the  topmost  wave,  anon  sinking  into  an  abyss  of 
spray.  Now  for  a  race  among  the  juveniles — away  they  go  like 
a  band  of  young  otters,  plunging,  plashing,  and  shrieking  in  the 
wildness  of  the  excitement,  much  to  the  horror  of  matrons  and 
governesses  on  the  sands,  who  are  in  momentary  dread  lest  they 
get  beyond  their  depth,  to  never  more  be  sent  to  bed  on  terra 
fir  ma. 

The  lapse  of  two  hours  sees  this  gay  assembly  of  bathers 
seated  in  full  toilette  at  the  grand  table  d'hote.  What  a 
change  !  White  neckerchiefs  and  dress  coats  instead  of  Man- 
darin pea-jackets  and  Joseph's  garment  of  many  colours.  The 
ladies  have  laid  aside  their  oil-skin  head-gear,  and  braided  and 
curled  their  locks  in  the  most  bewitching  of  fashions.  Saucy 
little  Cupids  are  pointing  their  arrows  with  mischievous  grace 
in  every  direction.  A  regiment  of  black  waiters  in  the  snowiest 
of  "  chokers,"  and  the  wooliest  of  caputs,  are  on  active  duty  to 
bear  off  the  "  courses" — as  a  matter  of  course.  Knives  and 
forks  are  up  and  doing ;  plates  undergo  changes ;  cpergnes 
crowded  with  camellias  and  chrysanthemums  prevent  smiles 
from  being  seen ;  napkins  are  unfolded,  and  magnums  of 
Amantillado  and  Bordeaux  lead  to  x'*>j  pools  in  brilliant  gob- 
lets, much  to  the  satisfaction  of  contented  bon  VtvantS.  Joyous 
young  gentlemen  slyly  Ogle  plump  misses  on  'tother  side  of 
table,  and  sigh  for  a  flirtation  in  that  quarter,  and  mince  a  vol- 
au-vent  simultaneously.     Brown  of  New-York  espies  Jones  ot 


298  dashes  of  American  humor. 

Boston  for  the  first  time,  and  whispers  to  his  wife  that  Jones 
stands  much  better,  or  vice  versa,  than  he  did  three  "seasons 
before.  Table  talk,  piquant  anecdotes,  and  curt  critiques  on 
made  dishes,  %  every — which — way,  until  the  diners  seek  the 
spacious  drawing-room,-,  where  coffee  will  be  served. 

Now  the  pianos  come  in  for  a  sad  share  of  flagrant  musical 
abuse.     Tall  A';  of  imposing  stature,  and  pretty  little 

Parvulas,  as  piquai  Be  fancy  little  figures  one  sees  on 

French  bon  bon  pap  town  and  agitate  the  ivory  I 

Tip-top  boarding-school  Iran/ r< is,  and  love-lorn  ballads  of  the 
violent  sentimental  cast,  form  the  main  stock.  Tinkling  tor- 
tures, with  now  and  then  an  etude  aa  a  relief,  assail  us  on  all 
sides.     Bitf  .  ments  of  Stabat  Maters,  bars  of 

popular  tunes,  and  slices  of  dance  music,  follow  one  another  in 
confused  BU 

What  a  distinction  in  good  and  bad  music.    One  soothes  the 
heart,  and  fills  it  with  pleasure  :  the  other  confu 
and  agitati  il,     One  is  the  invention  of  the  gods,  the 

other  of  i!  tnmend  us  to  melody  :  remove  us  from  dis- 

sonance ! 

The  gentlemen.  <  r  that  portion  of  them  who  prefer  what  are 
called  manly  'pastimes,  withdraw  from  the  sal/e-d-rii<'n^rr  to 
the  bowling  and  billiard-rooms,  to  tempt  fortune  at  "  ten- 
strikes,"  and  learn  how  often  they  can  "  pocket  the  red."' 
When  wearied  here,  they  drop  in  late  at  the  "hops"  in  the 
drawing-room,  with  a  fresh  curl  in  their  whiskers,  and  a  pair  of 
kids  that  have  not  for  a  long  time  seen  daylight.  Midnight 
finds  its  way  along,  as  usual,  after  interminable  dances,  polkas, 
tcte-d-tctcs,  flirtatious,  vows,  promises,  and  engagements  ;  and 
so  ends  the  day  at  the  Second  Class  Watering  Place. 

III. 

Coney  Island  is  the  Napoleon  of  the  third-class  watering 
places,  from  its  approximation  to  the  great- metropolis.     It  is  a 


AMERICAN    WATERING    PLACES.  299 

"  convenient  distance,"  and  like  all  convenient  distances,  is 
overrun  the  moment  June  denotes  that  vre  must  prepare  for  the 
heat  of  July.  It  is  the  goal  of  a  delightful  drive  from  New- 
York,  whither  every  tradesman  who  can  brush  up  three-minute 
horse-flesh  repairs  at  least  once  a  week,  to  indulge  in  an  hour's 
sport. 

Well-to-do  people,  therefore,  go  to  Coney  Island  for  a  hit  of 
fun,  while  "  the  million"  affect  the  surf  from  combined  hopes  of 
health  and  pleasure.  The  beach  affords  a  grotesque  medley  in 
the  season.  Loungers,  idlers,  fastmen,  rowdies,  swellmobsmen, 
police  officers,  fireboys,  and  butchers,  all  cheek  by  jowl,  and 
callously  indifferent  of  each  other.  They  are  watching  the 
bathers  plunging  and  curvetting  in  the  tide — and  most  extraor- 
dinary antics  are  to  be  witnessed. 

We  need  not  tell  the  reader  that  but  few  of  the  softer  sex 
are  seen  at  this  locale.  The  silver-slipper3  long  since  gave  way 
to  the  unpolished  Wellingtons ;  though  now  and  then  may  be 
seen  the  portly  dame  of  a  butcher,  from  home  for  a  day,  in 
yellow  satin,  with  a  bouquet  of  hollyhocks,  or  a  group  of  slipshod 
daughters  of  Erin  without  any  defined  notions  of  propriety. 

Coney  Island's  firmest  habitue,  is  the  New-York  fireboy.  He 
is  usually  a  thick-set,  full-necked  person,  with  a  predisposition 
for  tobacco,  and  the  usual  indulgences  that  that  popular  weed 
engenders.  He  wears  crape  on  his  hat.  though  lie  may  not  have 
had  a  family  bereavement  for  many  years  ;  a  red  flannel  shirt, 
blue  coat,  with  large  brass  buttons,  no-colored  trowsers,  turned 
up  three  inches  over  the  boot,  and  a  neckcloth  thrown  jauntily 
over  his  shoulders,  terminating  in  a  convulsive,  careless  bow, 
which  no  other  class  of  person  could  hope  to  accomplish.  He 
wears  his  hat — a  broad-brimmer — over  his  forehead  at  a  rakish 
angle,  uses  strong  anatli*  ted  or  not,  it  does  not  make 

much  matter,  and  talks  in  aloud,  unrestrained,  reckless  tone, 
from  mere  habit.  His  expressions  are  peculiar  to  himself. 
When  a  wager  happens  to  be  the  subject  of  conversation,   he 


300  DASHES    OF    AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

freely  offers  to  "  bet  his  pile1'  en  whatever  he  may  fancy.  He 
calls  a  fight  a  "  muss;"  confesses  if  he  did  not  enjoy  the  luxury 
of  a  street  row  once  in  a  while,  "  he  would  spile  :*'  terms,  in  very 
un-Lothario-like  phrase,  his  lady-love  his  ';  Old  Lizee,"  and 
remarks  (meaning  that  he  will  one  of  these  days  get  married) 
that  a  he's  agoin'  to  be  slung  afore  long."  The  object  of  his 
adoration  is  the  engine  company  to  which  lie  belongs,  or  favors 
with  his  commendation.     It  is  perilous  a  word  in  his 

presence  that  would  challenge  his  opinion,  as  there  is  no  point 
on  which  he  is  so  Irritable  aa  the  merits  of  "  de  machine."  It 
is  one  of  his  boasts  that  be  has  been  at  all  the  great  lires  withiu 
the  past  ten  years  of  his  life,  and  his  wannest  hope  seems  to  be 
that  he  may  not  miss  those  in  come  in  the  future  ten.  He  goes 
to  all  "  de  company's  balls"'  with  his  Dulcinea,  it  being  the  only 
annual  occasion  in  which  he  will  consent  to  appear  in  white 
s.     He  appetizes  "pork  and  I  regarding  that  old- 

dish  a  great  luxury,  and  bitterly  objects  to  dining 
"in  courses."'  Maraschino  and  curac,oa  are  out  of  his  latitude. 
ITe  drinks  brandy-aml-watcr.  and  believes  it  worth  all  ';  de  fancy 
fluids"  ever  invented. 

The  drinking  saloons  at  Coney  Island  reap  an  abundant  liar- 
vest  during  the  season.  The  admonitions  of  Father  Mathew 
are  exchanged  for  the  examples  of  Father  Bacchus,  and  a  man 
is  not  considered  in  ki  prime  order"  until  he  has  made  several 
excursions  to  Decantcr-dom.  '•  Come  and  take  something"  is 
the  popular  phrase  of  invitation,  and  "something  takeu'  is  un- 
doubtedly the  universal  result. 

The  water  revels  here  exceed  in  wildness  any  that  can  be 
found  in  the  union.  Thousands  rush  and  plunge  into  the  surf 
with  the  ardour  of  war-horses.  The  fireboys  turn  summer- 
saults, duck  each  other,  aerobatiae,  play  leap-frog,  and  flounce 
about  like  a  school  of  mad  porpoises.  Some,  with  no  fear  of 
pulmonary  distresses,  and  awed  by  no  recollection  of  "  rheuma- 
tics," dash  in  with  their  clothes  on,  and  come  out  dripping  like 


AMERICAN    WATERING   PLACBS.  301 

fountains.  Wicked  wagers  and  ridiculous  taunts  incite  absurd 
feats  of  aquatics  which  one  would  think  mermaids  and  tritons 
could  only  accomplish.  Bottles  of  spirits  are  carried  into  the 
sea  and  drunk  while  each  bather  is  covered,  like  Tantalus,  just 
to  the  lips.  Showers  of  pebbles  are  thrown  into  the  air  to  in- 
duce one  grand  and  simultaneous  dive  to  the  bottom ;  and  in 
short,  a  thousand  wild  capers  are  committed  at  this  wassail  at 
the  water. 

There  is  very  little  done  in  the  way  of  drawing-room  gossip  or 
evening  parties.  The  gist  of  the  visitors  "  come  like  shadows, 
so  depart :"  here  this  morning,  and  gone  with  the  sun.  Perhaps 
those  that  remain  may  whirl  through  a  polka-quadrille,  or  in- 
dulge in  a  shambling  hoe  down  a  la  quadroon.  Moonlight 
walks  on  the  beach  are  by  many  per  cent,  too  placid  for  the 
Coney  Islanders.  Skimming  pebbles  through  the  white  foam 
may  do  for  a  change,  but  it  grows  wearisome  after  a  few  at- 
tempts. To  see  these  third-classers  in  their  glory,  they  must 
be  viewed  before  Hesper  kisses  the  strand.  Night  seems  to 
add  an  alloy  to  the  general  hilarity — the  waves  subside  and  the 
boisterousness  cools  down.  If  you  should  ever  take  a  notion  to 
see  life  in  this  quarter  of  the  world,  "  go  early,"  as  the  play- 
bills say,  and  get  a  front  seat. 


!02 


DASHES   OF    AMERICAN   HUMOR. 


COLONEL  CRICKLEY'S  HORSE. 


I  have  never  been  able  to  ascertain  the  origin  of  the  quarrel 
between  the  Cricklcys  and  the  Drakes.  They  had  lived  within 
a  mile  of  each  other  in  Illinois  for  five  years,  and  from  their 
first  acquaintance  there  had  been  a  mutual  feeling  of  dislike 
between  the  two  families.  Then  some  misunderstanding  about 
the  boundary  of  their  respective  farms  revealed  the  latent 
flame;  and  Col.  Crickley,  having  followed  a  fat  buck  all  one 
afternoon  and  wounded  him.  camC  up  to  him,  and  found  old 
Drake  and  his  sons  cutting  him  up.  This  incident  added  fuel 
to  the  fire,  and  from  that  time  there  was  nothing  the  two  fami- 
lies did  not  do  to  annoy  each  other.  They  shot  each  other's 
ducks  in  the  river,  purposely  mi-taking  them  for  wild  ones;  and 
theu,  by  way  of  retaliation,  commenced  killing  off  each  other's 
pigs  and  calves. 

One  evening,  Mr.  Drake  the  elder  was  returning  home  with 
his  pockets  well  supplied,  from  Chicago,  whither  he  had  been 
to  dispose  of  a  load  of  grain.  Sam  Barston  was  with  him  on 
the  wagon,  and  as  they  approached  the  grove  which  intervened 
between  them  and  Mr.  Drake's  house,  he  observed  to  bis  com- 
panion— 

"  What  a  beautiful  mark  Colonel  Crickley's  old  Roan  is 
over  yonder !" 

II  Hang  it !"  muttered  old  Drake  ;  "  so  it  is." 

The  horse  was  standing  under  some  trees,  about  twelve  rods 
from  the  road. 


COLONEL    CItlCKLEV's    HORSE.  303 

Involuntarily  Drake  stopped  his  team.  lie  glanced  furtively 
arounci,  then,  with  a  queer  smile,  the  old  hunter  took  up  his 
rifle  from  the  bottom  of  the  wagon,  and  raising  it  to  his  shoul- 
der, drew  a  sight  on  the  Colonel's  horse. 

"  Beautiful!"  muttered  Drake,  lowering  his  rifle  with  the  air 
of  a  man  resisting  a  powerful  temptation.  "  I  could  drop  old 
Koan  so  easy." 

"  Shoot,"  suggested  Sam  Barston,  who  loved  fun  in  any  shape. 

"  No,  no,  'twouldn't  do,"  said  the  old  hunter,  glancing  cau- 
tiously around  him  again. 

"  I  won't  tell,"  said  Sam. 

"  Wal,  I  won't  shoot  this  time,  any  way,  tell  or  no  tell.  Tho 
horse  is  too  nigh.  If  he  was  fifty  rods  off  instead  of  twelve, 
so  there'd  be  a  bare  possibility  of  mistaking  him  for  a  deer,  I'd 
let  fly.     As  it  is,  I'd  give  the  Colonel  five  dollars  for  a  shot." 

At  that  moment  the  Colonel  himself  stepped  from  behind  a 
big  oak,  not  half  a  dozen  paces  distant,  and  stood  before  Mr. 
Drake. 

"  Well,  why  don't  you  shoot  ?" 

The  old  man  stammered  in  some  confusion — "  That  you, 
Colonel,  I — I  was  tempted  to,  I  declare  !  And,  as  I  said,  I'll 
give  five  dollars  for  one  pull." 

"  Say  ten,  and  it's  a  bargain !" 

Drake  felt  of  his  rifle,  and  looked  at  old  Boan. 

"  How  much  is  the  boss  wuth  ?"  he  muttered  in  Sam's  ear. 

"  About  fifty." 

"  Gad,  Colonel,  I'll  do  it !     Here's  the  money." 

The  Colonel  pocketed  it,  muttering — "  Hanged  if  I  thought 
you'd  take  me  up  !" 

"With  high  glee,  the  old  hunter  put  a  fresh  cap  on  his  rifle, 
stood  up  in  his  wagon,  and  drew  a  close  sight  on  old  Boan. 
Sam  Barston  chuckled.  The  Colonel  put  his  hand  before  his 
face,  and  chuckled  too. 

"  Crack  !"  went  the  rifle.     The  hunter  tore  out  a  horrid  oath, 


304  DASHES   OF   AMERICAN    HUMOR. 

which  I  will  not  repeat.  Sam  was  astonished.  The  Colonel 
laughed.      Old  Roan  never  stirred  !;' 

Drake  stared  at  his  rifle  with  a  face  black  as  Othello's. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  you,  hey?  Fus'  time  you  ever 
Barved  me  quite  such  a  trick,  I  swan  1" 

And  Drake  loaded  the  piece  with  great  wrath  and  indigna- 
tion. 

"  People  said  you'd  lost  your  nack  o'  shooting,"  observed 
the  Colonel,  in  a  cutting  tone  of  satire. 

"Who  said  so?  It's  a  lie!''  thundered  Drake.  "I  can 
shoot—" 

li  A  horse  at  ten  rods  ! — ha  !  ha  !" 

Drake  was  livid. 

"  Look  yere,  Colonel,  I  can't  stand  that !"  he  began. 

0  Never  mind,  the  horse  ran,"  Bneered  the  Colonel.  <;  I'll 
risk  you." 

( ;  rinding  his  teeth,  Drake  produced  another  ten-dollar  bill. 

"  Here  !"  he  growled,  "  I'm  bound  to  have  another  shot,  any 
way." 

"  Crack  away,"  cried  the  Colonel,  pocketing  the  note. 

Drake  did  crack  away — with  deadly  aim,  too — but  the  horse 
did  not  miud  the  bullet  in  the  least.  To  the  rage  and  unutter- 
able astonishment  of  the  hunter,  old  Roan  looked  him  right  in 
the  face,  as  if  he  rather  liked  the  fun. 

"  Drake,"  cried  Sam,  "  you're  drunk  !  A  horse  at  a  dozen 
rods — oh,  my  eye  I" 

"  Just  you  shut  your  mouth  or  I'll  shoot  3-011!"  thundered  the 
excited  Drake.  "  The  bullet  was  hollow,  I'll  swear.  The  man  lies 
says  I  can't  shoot !  Last  week  I  cut  off  a  goose's  head  at 
fifty  rods,  and  kin  dew  it  again.  By  the  Lord  Harry,  Colonel, 
you  can  laugh,  and  I'll  bet  now  thirty  dollars  I  can  bring  down 
old  Roan  at  one  shot." 

The  wager  was  readily  accepted.  The  stakes  were  placed  in 
Sam's  hands.     Flated  with  the  idea  of  winning  back  his  two 


m 


'Mm 


COLONEL  CRICKLEY'S  HORSE.  305 

tens  and  making  another  ten  into  the  bargain,  Drake  carefully 
selected  a  perfect  ball,  and  even  backskin  patch,  and  beaded  his 
rifle. 

It  was  now  nearly  dark,  but  the  old  hunter  boasted  of  being 
able  to  shoot  a  bat  on  the  wing  by  starlight,  and  without  hesi- 
tation, he  drew  a  clear  sight  on  old  Roan's  head. 

A  minute  later,  Drake  was  driving  through  the  grove,  the 
most  enraged,  the  most  desperate  of  men.  His  rifle,  innocent 
victim  of  his  ire,  lay  with  broken  stock  on  the  bottom  of  the 
wagon.  Sam  Barston  was  too  much  frightened  to  laugh. 
Meanwhile  the  gratified  Colonel  was  rolling  on  the  ground  con- 
vulsed with  mirth,  and  old  Roan  was  standing  undisturbed 
under  the  trees. 

"When  Drake  reached  home,  his  two  sons,  discovering  his  ill- 
humour  and  the  mutilated  condition  of  his  rifle-stock,  hastened 
to  arouse  his  spirit  with  a  piece  of  news,  which  they  were  sure 
would  make  him  dance  for  joy. 

"  Clear  out,"  growled  the  angry  old  man.  "  I  don't  want  to 
hear  any  news  ;  get  away,  or  I  shall  knock  one  of  you  down." 

"  But,  father,  it's  such  a  trick." 

"  Confound  you  and  your  tricks." 

"  Played  off  on  the  Colonel." 

"  On  the  Colonel  ?"  cried  the  old  man,  beginning  to  be  in- 
terested. "  Gad,  if  you've  played  the  Colonel  a  trick,  let's 
hear  it." 

"  "Well,  father,  Jed  and  I,  this  afternoon,  went  out  for 
deer—" 

"  Hang  the  deer  !  come  to  the  trick." 

u  Couldn't  find  any  deer,  but  thought  wo  must  shoot  some- 
thing ;  so  Jed  banged  away  at  the  Colonel's  old  Roan — shot 
him  dead  !" 

"Shot  old  Roan?"  thundered  the  hunter,  "By  the  Lord 
Harry,  Jed,  did  yon  shoot  the  Colonel's  hoss  ?" 

"  True,  sir,  true." 


306  DASHES   OP   AMERICAN   HUMOR. 

"  Devil !  — devil !"  groaned  the  hunter. 

"  And  then,"  pursued  Jed,  confident  the  joke  part  of  tne 
story  must  please  his  father,  "  Jim  and  I  propped  the  hoss  up, 
and  tied  his  head  back  with  a  cord,  and  left  him  standing  under 
the  trees  exactly  as  if  he  waa  alive.  TIa !  ha !  Fancy  the 
Colonel  going  to  catch  him  !     Ho  !  ho  !  ho  ! — wan't  it  a  joke  ?'' 

Old  Drake's  head  fell  upon  his  breast.  He  felt  of  his  empty 
pocket-book,  and  looked  at  his  broken  rifle.  Then,  in  a  rueful 
tone,  ho  whispered  to  the  boys — 

"  It  is  a  joke  !  But  if  you  ever  tell  of  it — or  if  you  do,  Sam 
Barston — I'll  skin  you  alive !  By  the  Lord  Harry,  boys,  I've 
boon  shooting  at  that  dead  boss  half  an  hour,  at  ten  dollars  a 
shol  !'' 

.V  ilint  moment  Sam  foil  into  the  gutter.  Jed  dragged  him 
out  insensible,     Sam  had  laughed  himself  almost  t<»  death. 


i'lii:    EXD. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  EROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

•   K„„W  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 
11S  book  is .da    on  ^.^  ^ 


This 


Kene.^"-^  to  Mediate  teca,, 


jmuJM^m 


General  Library     . 
University  of  California 
Berkeley 


